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celestie0 · 4 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | oneshot smut [18+]

title. around the clock

Hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision.

ᰔ pairing. babysitter/boxing au - underground boxer & babysitter!gojo x college student!reader (f)

ᰔ summary. when underground boxer gojo satoru becomes a little strapped for cash, he gets a day job as a babysitter for a five-year-old kid named yuuji who most definitely has adhd (but that’s besides the point). the kid’s mom gave gojo two rules, and two rules only: don’t accidentally kill my son, and do not flirt with my daughter. he’s pretty sure he’s got a good hold on the former, but he’s got no self control over the latter.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, smut, casual sex, lil bit of fluff, lil bit of crack, slight age gap (reader’s 22 & gojo’s 27), cum play, creampie, unprotected sex, praise kink, slight degradation, gojo is a sleazebag that cares?, sort of porn-coded smut except there’s a lil bit of lore so it’s kinda porn w plot, uhh having sex with risk of getting caught, gojo beats people up at night & then plays father figure to a 5 y/o during the day, mentions of violence/alcohol/drugs/blood/cigarettes

ᰔ word count. 12.6k

a/n. hiiii friends jeez it feels like FOREVER since i've posted some good ol' smut (still has plot tho xd)...hopefully you enjoy n see ya at the bottom! lmk if i missed any warnings! if you asked to be tagged but didn’t get tagged it’s bc you have your tags off aaa :( even when some ppl tried to fix it i still couldn’t tag them i’m sorry!!

alsoooooo so very much love to @starmapz for beta reading this for me :”) really helped me w my posting nerves haha. she is also a wonderful jjk author pls go check out her works!! 💕 ART CREDITS: @/3-aem

➸ masterlist

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): heyy um i’m sorry if this comes off kinda rude i just am kinda bad with this but i was wondering if you could text my mom for questions about yuuji’s care instead of me?

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Oh 2:46pm Gojo Satoru: Yeah, sure

2:34 pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sorry i know my mom doesn’t know much ab how to take care of him bc i was the one that took care of him for a while but i just really want to separate myself from that guardian role now that i’ve transferred to NYU yknow? :/ i think it’s not my place anymore. i just wanna be big sis now haha

2:46pm Gojo Satoru: I get it. Sorry if I was making you uncomfortable with my texts

2:48pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): no no not uncomfy by it, thanks for looking after him. it’s just i’m kind of busy n stuff so it can be distracting

2:49pm Gojo Satoru: Ok, got it

2:52pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): and it was kind of an issue with his last babysitter

2:53pm Gojo Satoru: Oh?

2:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeahhh like he would keep textinf me n stuff uhh kinda weird things… i told my mom about it and she was super pissed so she fired him

2:55pm Gojo Satoru: Weird things?

2:56pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah he was always “accidentally sexting me” n like he sent me a dick pic once sooooo yeah

2:56pm Gojo Satoru: Who tf 2:56pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll go beat him up

2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): oh no no its fine lol 2:57pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): please dont beat anyone up 2:58pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i’m not saying you’re like him tho i just think maybe less texting unless its an emergency okay?

3:00pm Gojo Satoru: Are you sure because I will totally go beat him up for you

3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO I DONT WANT YOU TO BEAT ANYONE UP FOR ME 3:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): also no offense but you dont look like you could beat someone up

3:01pm Gojo Satoru: WHAT 3:02pm Gojo Satoru: Tf you mean “no offense” that’s literally the most offensive thing you could say to a guy

3:04pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeaa i mean you have muscles ofc but in the ‘ohhh i wanna look good for instagram’ way and not like real man muscles yknow

3:06pm Gojo Satoru: Ok princess next time you visit home and go on one of your stupidly large grocery hauls I’ll make sure you carry all those groceries in by yourself

3:06pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): NO 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): I WAS JUST JOKING 3:07pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): YOURE SO STRONG TY FOR ALWAYS CARRYING THE GROCERIES INSIDE 3:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): PLEASE KEEP CARRYING MY GROCERIES INSIDE

3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Nah 3:09pm Gojo Satoru: Should we be texting right now? I’m not sensing any emergencies here

3:11pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): pls. my groceries :(

3:16pm Gojo Satoru: I’ll let the kiddo know you say hi 👋🏼

The irony of it all was that, if Gojo really wanted to, he absolutely could beat the shit out of someone. And he has, hundreds of times, pseudo professionally. Although that isn’t something he’d admit to you, out of fear that you might relay that info back to your mom who would then become mortified that she’s entrusted her five-year-old son’s life to the hands of an underground boxer.

But he needed the money. A night-time job didn’t really make daytime money, not when they could easily replace him with the next dude the second he gets knocked out of the ring more than twice, let alone if he let it happen once. And although he sometimes made large sums, it wasn’t stable income. He needed a back-up plan, and so babysitting it was.

The babysitter working nights at unsanctioned dojos and gyms located in the back of cartel blocks, knocking teeth out of men twice his size, would put any decent mother into a coma or induce some episode of syncope, hence why it wasn’t something he put on his resume before he got hired. Not that he even needed to provide a resume; your mom seemed desperate to cover the position as fast as possible, that promotion at work was moving faster than she wanted to, and Gojo’s beneficial attribute that he possessed as a candidate to look after her son, compared to all the other potential hires, was that he had a penis.

He likes the kid. Yuuji. He’s got kind of a short attention span, and makes Gojo weary of his age. Hold up, that makes him sound like he’s geriatric, he’s really only the ripe old age of twenty-seven, but the immortality and infinite stamina that a five-year-old boy has on him is enough to have him huffing and puffing at the end of every single evening shift he takes on with the rascal.

Fighting is all sprint, and no stamina. Sure, there might be some more seasoned boxers that might disagree with him, but for someone as young as him in the field, it’s the tactic he’s been forced to gain. If he draws a fight on for too long, he'll get killed by a forty-two year old man with steroids clogging up his adipose tissue and enough testosterone to grow a full-body beard by the time the sun starts to set. No, his strategy is to knock them out within the first fifteen seconds. Use their weight against them, and whatnot. A tactic he’s found has worked, since he’s been undefeated thus far.

He can never wrap his head around it. The drug lords that run the rings who’ve gained millions the night before from selling crystal meth only to lose it all the night following in the second Gojo hooklines a solid punch to their betting boxer’s chin, making them see God & their Momma before they tap out (if they’re even able).

He doesn’t pocket much money from it, not anything compared to what the men who bet on him end up making at least, but it’s a decently solid sum. How lucrative it really is depends solely on what he thinks the value of his life is.

It’s not unheard of, boxers dying in the ring. Turns out, rich drug dealers care very little about the sheep they’ve captured to perform their entertaining little stunts. But Gojo wasn’t doing all of this to feel some sense of work-life pride, no, it was just sustenance. When basic needs are not met, humans resort to the most animalistic of all behaviors, and while he’s not proud of what he does, he can’t deny the fact that it’s turned him into an adrenaline junkie that gets a rush in his veins every time he knocks a jaw loose.

But balance was key. And hence why he’s a boxer by night, babysitter by day. For at least four days a week, he gets to pretend he’s the king’s most trusted appointed knight, or he’s the radioactive tyrannosaurus rex that wants to tyrannize all the other dinosaurs, or maybe he’s the evil power ranger (he always forgets which color that one was) that is determined to make the world a living hell by smashing mr. potatohead against the bunk bed post a billion times for all the other toys to see. Or whatever other imaginative hyperfixations Yuuji imposes on him in the later afternoon once he’s had his bowl of spaghetti-O’s and is ready to play. Lately, the kid’s been really into space. They’ve got all sorts of space toys these days. Back in Gojo’s day, he just had a good ol’ Buzz Lightyear.

“One rule, that’s it: don’t accidentally kill my son. Actually, one more rule. Don’t flirt with my daughter.”

There’s a part of Gojo that believes your mom kind of knows he’s up to shady shit at night, otherwise why else would she clause for him to not flirt with you if she didn’t read the slight swell to his eye and the healing gash across his cheek as anything other than this boy is trouble and I want him nowhere near my too-good-for-him daughter of reproductive capacity since that’s the exact tale of how I became a single mother in the first place. Or maybe he inherently looks like he’s up to no good? He’s not sure which angle is more offensive, and which one was more flattering. Well in any case, she entrusted Yuuji’s life to him, despite acknowledging the plausibility of harm, and that means she overall thinks positively of him, right? ……right?

The first night he met you, it was awkward to say the least. Gojo spends most of his nights performing deadly stunts for middle aged men with potbellies, and most of his days hanging out with a five-year-old (one who he’d argue is his only friend at this point). Sure, he’s got some people he sees occasionally back in his high school hometown when he can brave hearing about how everyone’s in college now or doing a masters or they’re working respectable nine-to-five day jobs meanwhile he has to lie to his Pops that he’s been working in insurance for the past two years. Listen, in fairness, he probably makes the same amount of money as an insurance broker would anyways, but he can’t exactly own up to the identity of his craft.

Anyways, the point is, he’s not used to seeing other people his age anymore. There’s the occasional hook-up with girls he hasn’t seen since Mrs. Tracy’s homeroom period back in sweet two-thousand-sixteen, or his twice-a-year hangout with Suguru where he only learns the day of where he's visiting from since the guy moves around more than Gojo can keep up with. But save for that, he mostly just sees your mom and then Yuuji.

So seeing you standing in the kitchen for the first time when he went to put Yuuji’s half-finished GoGurt back in the fridge was startling to say the least. When the sight of a woman startled him, he knew he needed to start getting out again.

You were on your tiptoes, reaching up to grab at something over the fridge, and wearing these ridiculously short shorts to where he could see the curve of your ass, his line of sight trailing down the skin of your bare legs. He couldn’t see anything of your form above your shorts, given you were wearing an extremely baggy t-shirt with NYU on it in big bolded university letters. As far as he knew, you were a senior at NYU, studying psychology, made dean’s list consecutively for the past three years given the way your mother posted all your stellar transcripts up on the fridge (he gets that she’s proud of her daughter, but doesn’t that kind of stuff usually end in grade school?) But other than that, it was all the information he had on you.

“Here,” he said, pressing his front to your back, maybe just to get a feel, as he reached over to you to finally grab the box of cereal you were swatting for, the one that he purposefully placed at the back because Yuuji learned how to climb counters recently. “Is this what you want?”

He had heard you gasp, spinning around on your heel fast, staring up at him with wide eyes like you weren’t expecting some random man to be in the house right now, and your first instinct ended up being to grab the knife out of the kitchen knife block and lunge it straight at his torso.

If it wasn’t for his boxer reflexes, he’d have ended up at the ER that evening. Or dead. All depending on the strength you could pack into a stab. But instead, he deflected it, though not without a gash to his torso through the fabric of his shirt, one that you spent the rest of the evening profusely apologizing for and eventually mending to with cotton balls and neosporin.

“I didn’t know you were my little brother’s babysitter,” you mumbled with a small wince on your face as you dabbed ointment on the wound while he pulled the hem of his shirt up to his shoulder. He’s never had an injury tended to before. It was nice.

“It’s fine, I get it, totally acceptable response to seeing a random dude in your house.”

He remembers the curl of your eyelashes while you stared down at his bare upper half, something he imprinted on his memory rather than the concern in your face as your fingertips traced the scars across his chest. He hoped they made you feel better about the one you just slashed into him, because after all, what was one more?

He knows he shouldn’t have, but he kissed you that night. Two minutes before your mom came home, and right after you bid him goodnight with one more apology, he backed you up against the door of your bedroom, his hands on your hips pulling you towards him, and his lips pressed against yours. Something seamless, from candid conversation that was heading towards an end, to full fledged making out against white-painted wood, his teeth nipping at your lip and he wondered just how touch-starved those university boys were leaving you given the desperate way you’d clinged to his shirt for dear life as he deepened the kiss.

The moment only lasted one minute and fifty-seven seconds, and in the remaining three, your mother’s key pushed into the front door and he had to pull away. Always, on the dot, 10PM, she was home. It was how he knew he had two minutes left to make a move in the first place.

So much for no flirting.

6:57pm Gojo Satoru: Bahahah I accidentally forgot where yuuji’s epipen is 6:58pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 6:59pm Gojo Satoru: Turns out this can-o-soup was just covering it in the cabinet

7:01pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): ??? why did you need to find his epipen

7:08pm Gojo Satoru: Oh he accidentally took a bite of my pad thai 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: I freaked cuz I thought it had peanuts in it but I remember I asked for it without any 7:09pm Gojo Satoru: shit’s crazy

7:10pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY THE FUCK DIDNT YOU TEXT ME????????

7:12pm Gojo Satoru: YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANT ME TEXTING YOU UNLESS IT WAS AN EMERGENCY ?

7:13pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): SATORU YOU THOGHT HE ATE SOMETHING W PEANUTS IN IT AND YOU FORGOT WHERE HIS EPIPEN WAS THATSS A FUCKIGN EMERGENCY

7:15pm Gojo Satoru: THE KID IS DOING FINE HES ALIVE JESUS LEAVE ME ALONE 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo] 7:16pm Gojo Satoru: See. he’s chill 7:17pm Gojo Satoru: with intact airways might I add 7:18pm Gojo Satoru: Also isn’t he a little too old to still be watching baby sensory videos?

7:20pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): yeah my mom thinks he has adhd :(

7:22pm Gojo Satoru: oh

He tried to keep his word though (although he doesn’t recall ever giving it) out of the respect he had for your mom. She was a hard-working lady, single mom of two who went from working three jobs to now being a major administrator at a big law firm near the outskirts of town. It was an underdog story if he’d ever heard one, and he loved an underdog story.

But a little texting here and there wouldn’t hurt, right? Or so he thought, until you told him to cut it out with the contact. Maybe you were just trying to be the good one in this situation. After all, hooking up with your little brother’s babysitter? That sounds more like a bad porno than a sensible decision. Still, he’ll eventually get your replies to his which shirt should Yuuji wear to the park? and look, the toothfairy gave him the butt of a joint and a couple thumbtacks for his front tooth. he’s ecstatic texts, although in a less timely manner than before when you weren’t trying to preserve propriety. And when you’d occasionally visit every other weekend, he’d do his best to keep his hands in his pockets, and you’d fill up your nights with hangouts with your hometown friends to avoid spending too much time with him at the house. A silent agreement to not fuck each other, it was.

4:55pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): send pic of yuuji pls i miss him :(

5:04pm Gojo Satoru: [sent a photo]

5:08pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): IS THAT BLOOD?!?!?!?!

5:09pm Gojo Satoru: chillllllll it’s fake. We’re working on his halloween costume

5:09pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): WHY DOES IT HAVE BLOOD?!?!?!?!?!?

5:10pm Gojo Satoru: He wants to be a baby xenomorph and I'm his parasitic host. You know that iconic chestburster scene from the old school alien movies? yeah

5:12pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): satoru please for the love of god just dress him up as a dinosaur or something

5:13pm Gojo Satoru: I’m not the one that came up with the idea, okay? It was him

5:14pm yuuji’s sis (no flirting): because you let him watch adult swim with you before putting him to bed. you’ve deranged his brain.

5:14pm Gojo Satoru: He needs it. Builds character.

Gojo was living a double life, and if someone asked him, he’d say it was less of a Clark Kent way and more of a Bruce Wayne way, although in reality, he knows it’s close to neither. He’s no superhero with a concealed identity fighting crime, he’s a con artist that’s tricked a hard-working woman into hiring him just because he’s trying to save up enough money to get the fuck out of this godforsaken town, given he’s not knocked dead before then for the crime’s amusement.

But Yuuji looks up to him now. And Gojo’s grown attached to him too. He taught the kid how to tie his own shoes and piss inside the actual toilet like a real man. And that kid’s the only thing that’s made him question any of this. Maybe that’s what dads feel, suddenly held to all this impossible responsibility and the pressure to stop doing stupid shit so that you’ll stick around to see your kids get older. The thought that there are eyes on you now, eyes that are innocent and hopeful and learning, and because they know nothing at all, you feel the responsibility to protect them from everything. For fucks sake, remind him to never become a dad.

“Do you like my sister?” Yuuji had asked him out of nowhere one afternoon after he just got home from preschool, stacking a blue cube over a yellow one at the dining table.

“Uhh,” Gojo starts. He wondered if your mom had put a wire on the kid, so his answer was as diplomatic as he could manage. “Yeah, she’s cool. You’ve got a cool sister.”

“But. But.” Yuuji stutters, trying to find his big boy words. He stretches up higher to reach the top of his stack of blocks, but he only has so much arm real estate at the age of five. “Do you like her like you wanna kiss her?”

Gojo grabs the block from the kid’s hand, for a moment questioning Yuuji’s decision to want to put a blue block over another blue block, but he figures aesthetics are the least of a kid’s concern, and so he places the block where Yuuji wanted it.

Why does the kid know what kissing is anyway? Do kids know that kind of stuff at that age? Isn’t a kiss to a five-year-old just something their mom gives to them before they head off to preschool for the day? And not something that happens between adult men and women? Maybe he should stop watching that adult swim in front of him.

“No. I don’t want to kiss your sister,” he says, again, because he is suspicious of a wire. It was a lie and then some, because he wants to do a lot more than just kiss you.

Gojo lifts the RedBull he was nursing up to his lips and watches Yuuji in the corner of his eye as the kid stares at his growing stack of blocks with a concentrated expression on his face, his chubby fingers squeezing tightly into little round dimpled balls, like he’s putting together all his tiny brain cells together to form another coherent thought before turning to face Gojo on the chair.

“It’s ok. You can kiss her if you wan’ed to. You can marry her too,” Yuuji says.

Gojo almost spits out his RedBull. He barely manages to swallow it, a broken cough immediately leaving his throat when some of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe and he’s smacking a fist against his chest to knock the sanity back into himself.

“Where the fu—��where the flip did that come from?” he asks, blinking back tears from the rasp in his throat.

Yuuji’s small shoulders sulk as he sits back on his heels. “I want a papa.”

Oh fuck that hurt. Jesus christ, there was nothing more sad than that. Yuuji has literally never known what it’s like to have a dad, since his had left before he was even born. Gojo’s not really close to his old man by any means, but he had still been a fatherly figure in some pivotal moments when he had needed it growing up. Kids need their dads. And he’s seen enough people lose their way without one to know that the value of them is really underestimated.

He’s also kind of shocked that Yuuji really did think of you as his motherly figure. Maybe since it had always just been him and his dad, Gojo learned how to self sustain from a young age, and he and his dad became accustomed to just looking after their own interests to avoid the headache of tending to one another. My land is my land, and your land is yours, and there was the occasional Saturday night spent together with his dad’s millions of beer bottles emptied dry on the carpet in front of the 1992 box TV as the two shared a greasy pizza from the place down the street. That was the extent of family solidarity that he knew.

But he can’t imagine being barely eighteen and having to take care of your little brother all by yourself because your mom was too busy trying to put food on the table and was too poor to hire a babysitter. Your mom tried so damn hard to keep you away from the single teenage mother life, but somehow ended up giving it to you by proxy in the end anyway. It was no wonder you wanted space now that Yuuji’s a little older and your mom can afford a babysitter. No matter how much you might love your sibling, being their effective guardian out of pure necessity had to have taken a toll.

Gojo clears his throat before he speaks. “Buddy. If I married your sister, we’d be brothers. I wouldn’t be your dad.”

Yuuji’s eyes light up at the word brother. “Brothers? Me and you?”

“Yeah. Bros.”

The kid giggles, all bubbly with cheeks rounding fully and eyes sparkling. Gojo reaches out to ruffle at his hair before Yuuji gets down onto one stubby leg at a time from the chair then bolts towards the kitchen.

“Juice!!” he yells somewhere around the corner out of sight.

Gojo sighs, staring at all the toys he pulled out for Yuuji to play with, all left in a scattered mess across the table. He gets up out of his chair and heads towards the fridge. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get you your juice, you little demon.”

The conclusion he comes to, and it might read like an obvious one, is that kids don’t really know the reality of life, hence why adults hide so much from them.

This is what he thinks of tonight when he wraps his worn out boxing tape around his hands and his wrist, tightening it with his teeth, and he can smell the sweat and grime from them. The back of the underground gym had an old dated locker room, and as Gojo stretches his neck side to side while sitting on the stiff metal bench, he eyes the peeling red paint of the locker in front of him, blurring vision making it look like spilt blood.

His phone pings with a text. He shuffles inside his duffle bag to look for it while his other hand scratches at his bare chest.

1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): hhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii 1:07am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): omgomgomg sor y i’m

He blinks at the screen, confusion flashing across his face. He types one letter, but then he sees three dots and a speech text bubble in the bottom left, so he waits for you.

1:09am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i drunk :(

The corner of his mouth ticks up slightly.

1:09am Gojo Satoru: Yeah I can tell

1:10am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): at a apartyyyy

His eyebrows raise slightly, the thought of you tipsy on some frat party couch flashing through his mind, yet of all things you could be doing at that frat party, you’re texting him? Must be a really boring party.

1:11am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): whyyy are you aawake?

1:12am Gojo Satoru: Couldn’t sleep 1:12am Gojo Satoru: Don’t you have a midterm in the morning?

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): wtf hwo do you knwo that

1:15am Gojo Satoru: Your mom keeps your schedule posted on the fridge

1:15am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): im so fucked;’;(((

He snorts. He’s got a bit more life experience than you, five-ish years to be exact, more than enough time to master the no-hangover hangout, but just before he can offer you some advice, he sees another text from you.

1:16am yuuji’s sister (no flirting): can i tell u smething

His gaze flits up to the ceiling briefly, and he hears commotion outside the thick walls of the locker room. The previous fight was over, and fast. The guy must’ve been knocked out in under twenty seconds tops, which means that Gojo was next up against whatever superbeast just beat him up.

1:17am Gojo Satoru: Sure

He stands up, placing his phone down on the bench before he flexes the muscles in his arms a couple times to get the blood flowing into them. And there’s the noise of another ping. Actually, four.

1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): sonetimes 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): i thikn of 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): when u kisse me 1:14am yuuji’s sis (no flirting): *kissed me

His eyes widen slightly, irises dry to the ashy cigarette smoke from outside lingering in the air, and his heart rate picks up a bit. An adrenaline junkie with close to no fear in his veins due to the way his amygdala’s been fried to a crisp from years of boxing, yet he’s got his breath hitched from the memory of your soft lips against his. It makes the blood rushing through the muscles of his arms rush somewhere down south instead.

Loud banging on the door of the locker room jolts him out of his trance, and he’s stiff around the edges once more.

“Satoru! You’re up, man,” he hears Danny, the fight coordinator, yell at him from the other side of the heavy & poorly-installed steel door.

Gojo sighs, glancing down at the texts on his phone. To respond, or not to respond. You’re off your face, clearly chatty from the alcohol, and he knows for certain you’ll regret every life decision you’ve ever made once you wake up in the morning and see the self sabotaging behaviors you’ve engaged in tonight. He knows that responding to you might put you at ease rather than straight up ignoring you, but the feeling will pass, and he has a match to win with no more room left to stall.

He makes his way out the locker room, pushing past the crowded halls of people underneath dim flashing club lighting, some dudes angrily jerking to face him when he pushes past them with a stiff shoulder, only for their eyes to widen when they see just exactly who pushed them.

There’s strippers in the ring, doing some routine for pre-match, and Gojo narrows his eyes at the man he sees laying back over the rubber boundary rope, head tipped back up to the ceiling with a wicked grin on his face. So that was his opponent? He’s never seen the guy before. Was he from a different district? Different district talent was tough, you had no background info on them, while they’ve been preparing to be here for weeks. Hence why boxers tend to do better when they visit a different district than they do in their own. There have been rules made to limit these types of fights, mostly over outrage that it was unfair to bid on them, but they were also usually more entertaining to watch. Gojo’s got a sick feeling to his stomach as the strippers clear the ring.

“Hey,” Gojo calls out, grabbing Danny by the back of his collar and dragging him towards him and away from the girls stepping down onto the floor, “what’s in for this fight?”

Danny glances up at the ceiling. “Tarp’s bettin’ tonight, so it can’t be anything less than ten grand for you. I’d say tops fifteen?”

Gojo narrows his eyes further, then glances off into the ring again. The man stands up, and Gojo gets a better look on his face. He’s got short hair, neon green in color with a dark fade underneath and tattoos all over his face. But those eyes. They were freakishingly red, and it made him uneasy. He knows the type. The type of boxers that do this to genuinely hurt people for thrill. Make no mistake, Gojo understands he’s made himself out to be like that too, gaining some kind of rush out of this profession, but this type of fighter was different. The type to literally continue smashing a dude’s face into the floor until they’re a bloody mess even minutes after the winning call, and no referee to stop it because that’s the kind of action the spectators wanted.

Danny reads his line of sight. “That’s Gale. Newton’s new boxing toy. Came outta nowhere about a month ago. He’s undefeated so far in his district, and Newton specifically wanted to see you up against him tonight,” Danny tells Gojo, resting his elbow up on his bare shoulder. “Chances are he’ll compete with Tarp for final bid if you win this one. I’m talking twenty-five grand in the next if you can knock him out in this.”

“Uh-huh,” Gojo acknowledges, rolling his shoulder so Danny’s elbow falls from it. Forget the money, he just wants to make it out of this alive.

He sets his foot up on the square, ducking through the dividing boundary straps and the tacky caution construction tape that the gym thinks creates an exciting ambience. He hears the static of the speakers as the announcers call out Gojo’s name, then this other guy, loud bass club music booming through Gojo’s chest as he tries to take a few deep breaths through the thick air of this low-ceiling arena.

The dim overhead lights flickered, casting shadows over the makeshift ring, and the crowd pressed tight around at every perimeter area, yelling and pushing, one even tosses a beer bottle on the square and it shatters, spreading glass all across, a few shards reaching Gojo’s feet and he looks down at them with a shudder. A fight immediately breaks out in the crowd over something related or possibly entirely unrelated, and he’d have no way of knowing as he swipes the shards away with his heel.

The influential men always sat up on higher seating, off towards the back in their own VIP section where they suck in the smoke of fat cigarettes and peer through 100% tinted sunglasses to assess the boxers they’ve bid thousands on. The light reflects off the golden grills of their teeth with every snarl at any passerby that gets too close, like a lion in its den. That’s what the sanction was called. Lion’s den.

Gojo sighed, eyeing the twisted grin of this Gale guy across from him. Was that his real name? Usually, foreign district guys get nicknames. Gojo’s always thought the nicknames were tacky, and he’s accumulated some of his own over the years, but to his ears, none of them ever really landed, although The White Fox admittedly was kinda nice. Reminded him of throwback shooting games.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth, holding his hands up in front of his chest in weak fists, storing energy in them in the form of pure anticipation alone, and then the bell rang.

His opponent lunged towards him immediately, fists flying in a barrage of reckless strikes, and Gojo’s eyes momentarily widened in the briefest moments of hesitation he had been allowed before ducking and dodging every one of this guy's shots, then jumping a step back to create distance.

Fuck. He was fast. Not just boxer fast, athlete fast. There was a difference. And it wasn’t a good one to be up against.

Gojo picked up light on his feet. He couldn’t win this one fast, that much was certain. One single careless or reckless move, and he’ll get tackled. He knows that by the malicious look he sees on that guy’s face, grin wide like he’s some cannibalistic beast.

Stepping back towards the center, Gojo purposefully set himself up for Gale to swipe a vicious hook towards his head, before Gojo last minute ducked down, crouched to the floor, and swung his leg out to knock the guy off balance by his ankles, and he falls onto his back with a loud thud!

There’s a moment of momentary silence from the crowd, right before Gojo put the man in a torso-lock, twisting him in a way a human body should absolutely not be twisted, hearing the grunts of pain and the crack of spine even through the shouts of the crowd.

He can hear it. Kill him! Knock his fucking teeth out! Snap his neck like a goose, man! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM! FIN-ISH HIM!

He feels like throwing up.

Gojo looks up at the referee, who wasn’t really a referee, just there to run the clock when there was action and only barely stop it before near death. “This is enough, right?” he asks.

The referee nods. “1-0, next round.”

Gojo lets go of his opponent, leaving him there to heave for a moment before he gets up onto his feet again. Just needs one more, and he’s a winner. Ten grand in his pocket, and he won’t have to come back here for a couple weeks.

Gale gets up, swiping at the spit that had trickled out the corner of his mouth down to his chin, and he had an enraged look on his face. The second the bell rang for the second round, he exploded forward towards Gojo with even more fervor than before, gritted expression with a thirst for violence fueling the storm of punches he was throwing towards Gojo but he tried to remain calm, light on his feet, swiftly duck and avoid before he can find another opportunity to clear a sharp, clean jab right to the ribs—

sometimes, i think of when you kissed me

Gojo misses his strike, leaving his guard wide open, and Gale takes the opportunity to land a solid punch straight to his jaw, sending his mouth guard flying straight out of his mouth into the air, and knocking him backwards onto the ground with a thud and then he finds himself staring up at the rusting metal ceiling and a ringing in his ears that almost matches the roar of the crowd.

His head is in a haze, dizzy like where one second could feel like a millennia. He feels a soreness underneath his chin, a pain that radiates to his mouth, and he briefly swipes his tongue over his front teeth to make sure he still has all of them.

What the fuck was that? That intrusive thought. There’s no intrusive thoughts allowed in life or death situations, not when he was always just one smash to the head away from a permanent concussion. But, fuck, he can’t help it. Can’t help thinking of you. Even when his vision has gone blurry and he should really be weary about what happens next in this ring, his mind’s just thinking about you, at some frat party, tipping back shots of tequila and waiting for a text-back in response to your tipsy ones. Were you even waiting up on him? Have you already passed out on the couch, or were your friends dragging you back to your dorm? Or are you fucking some other dude right now? Has he got his hand up your top, squeezing at you, sleazily feeling you up before spilling beer all down your shirt, and are you kissing him back with the same enthusiasm, your phone now somewhere long slipped between the cushions of the couch and out of sight?

Even though it’s still sore, he tenses his jaw. Grinds his teeth, even. Tasting blood somewhere along the line of his gums, he realizes his lip is split. He licks at it, the flavor of copper more rich on his tongue, and he clenches his fists tightly. Why’s he thinking of that right now? It just pisses him off, the thought of you with some other dude. Maybe that’s what he needs to win this fight. Spite. Although he’s not sure why the guy across from him at the ring has to pay for it.

He lifts his head up off the ground, and while it felt like years he had been down, a glance at the timer tells him it’s only been a solid four seconds. A solid four seconds that his opponent had to fully charge a lunge towards him with the look of death in his face, raising his elbow up into the air in time with his leap, ready to come straight down, and Gojo’s eyes widen at the sight above him from where he’s still lying on the wood.

“Shit—” he cusses, rolling his body over to the side so that the dude falls straight down onto the floor rather than elbow Gojo in the fucking ribs, and then he gets back up on his feet.

Stakes were high, he has to end this, he has to end this now, and he flexes the muscle in his right bicep, channeling everything he has into this one blow, and before Gale even really has a chance to turn around and face him again, Gojo’s already three-fourths set up a knockout undercut that he drives straight up the guy’s chin, with so much force it has him lifting up off the floor, a vertebrate stretch to his spine before he’s sent flying backwards and slammed against the tight rubber lining of the ring to where he was half hanging over it.

The room fell silent for a split second, then erupted in a roar as the referee fell to one knee beside Gale, checking him for any semblance of consciousness, and when he found none, he waves the match off.

Gojo’s eyes flit up towards the lion’s den, the only opinions that he really needed to care about were sitting in those mahogany chairs with glasses of scotch swirling around in their hands, and he sees some of them looking straight at Gojo before leaning towards one another and discretely talking about something he can’t make out because he doesn’t know how to read lips.

He feels someone tug at his arms from behind, pulling him to crouch down and he balances back on the balls of his feet. He glances down through the ring at the floor. Danny was leaning against the wooden surface of it. “Dude. Go.” He jerks his head towards Gale, who still laid there sprawled across the now stretched out rubber perimeter bands. “Go fuck him up. Knock a few more teeth out, I don’t know, get some more blood out of him.”

“What?” Gojo huffs, yanking his arm away from Danny’s grip. “The fuck are you saying?”

“I told you, man, Newton’s here and he’s got his eye on you. Go give him a show,” Danny says, “do it.” And when he sees clear frustration on Gojo’s face he sighs. “Twenty-five grand, consider that, will you?”

Gojo sneers at the man, an awful taste in his mouth as he spits blood towards Danny’s feet. “Go fuck yourself on his cock if he wants a show that bad.” And then he ducks underneath the bands and hops back down onto the floor, pushing past people who were trying to grab at him and pull at him and lift him up and even throw him down until he made it through flashing hallways and back to the locker room.

He shuts the door behind him, sliding the bolt lock into the frame so no one can follow him inside, and then he leans his weight back against the chilling steel before tipping his head back until it hits the surface too.

He lets out of a few deep breaths, then stares down at the sting he finds over his knuckles. Red and blistering from the last punch he delivered, and he’s almost certain he broke a bone in his hand. Fuck. It was bleeding across the cuts, too. He had to figure out a way to get it all healed by tomorrow, as if that was humanly possible, just because he doesn’t want Yuuji questioning him about it.

Yuuji. For fucks sake, when has he ever thought about the kid this much? When has he ever thought about much of anything when he’s out here or in the ring? He’s a babysitter by day. He’s a “part” of your family when the sun is up and normal functioning society is breathing their lives into the clean air. That’s it. He’s no five-year-old’s caretaker in front of all these primetime drug lords, and he certainly shouldn’t be thinking of you when facing big, burly men he’s aiming to rough up, all within the dead hours of night. So then how come these thoughts are on his mind at all times, twenty-four-seven, around the clock?

He heads further into the locker room, glancing down at the bench where he’d left his phone, then picks it up, neck craned all the way down to glance at the screen as he holds his phone by his hip because he doesn’t have any energy to pick it up any further towards his eyesight.

He sees your messages. You never sent any follow-up ones, just your horrendously typed out sonetimes, i thikn of when u kisse me *kissed me across the span of four texts, and Gojo runs a tired hand down his face.

He tips his head back to groan at the ceiling, guttural with no basis other than a release of all the pent up frustration of every sort, then he types in a couple messages to you,

3:23am Gojo Satoru: That’s nice 3:24am Gojo Satoru: I think about fucking you all the time

—and then tosses his phone into his duffel bag to call it a night.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’re awoken to your alarm blaring heavily, and you whack your arm across your nightstand table beside your tiny twin-size bed to hit the snooze button, then rub your eye with a loose fist while smacking at the residual taste of alcohol you have on your tongue.

“Mm…” you mumble to yourself. And then the thirst hits you. The overwhelming, intense, unquenchable thirst that leaves your mouth feeling like the Sahara desert before you grab your twice-dented Hydroflask from the nightstand, twist the cap off and chug about twenty ounces of water in one breath.

You let out a deep exhale and fall back into bed, your hand resting on top of your water-filled tummy, and you stare up at the ceiling of your dorm.

Last night was horrible. You knew you shouldn’t have gone to that frat party, especially given you have an exam in—you checked the time on your phone—about an hour, and an hour was not enough time to recover from the raging hangover headache that’s pounding through your head. But your roommates insisted you went, and so go you did. You never knew what to expect, always torn between shaving your pussy before you go or throwing on a stained pair of sweatpants to keep the guys away instead. Sometimes, it was a combination of both. But last night, you ended up drinking more than you usually do, and that always led to poor, poor, poor decisions, in which all the sense of pride you had in yourself was washed down with the puke that you hurled into the upstairs toilet.

You grab at your phone again, briefly seeing that your friends had sent you some photos from the night. You immediately swiped off to the side to dismiss the notifications, because as far as you were concerned, you never wanted to see those photos in your life.

And then, in the briefest of moments, you saw a familiar name in your notifications that made you heart skip a beat.

Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter)

With an immediate gasp, you pulled your phone to your chest and held it there, blinking up at the pale yellow ceiling, your heart picking up in rhythm.

Oh fuck.

That was right.

You drunk texted him last night.

You drunk texted your little brother’s hot babysitter.

Fuck.

Mortified was an understatement, possibly because you don’t even remember what you said, and so you don’t even want to see what he replied with.

You groan, rubbing both your hands across your face then kick your sheets back with your feet like a child having a temper tantrum because you were so embarrassed you had even texted him at all last night. I mean, he was hot. A little older than you, really gorgeous eyes, tall, and, yeah, you gave him shit for the Instagram muscles thing, but that’s only because you thought he’d find it cheeky that you were trying to humble him despite the fact that he’s more toned and ruggedly sculpted than any other man you’ve ever met. You didn’t want to have a flustered schoolgirl attitude because it would just seep through to his ego.

In any case, he was hot, there was no denying it, so can you really blame yourself? But still. There was collateral with this. You had to see him every other weekend. He knows your family, even your extended since they invited him to Thanksgiving dinner a couple weeks ago. A high-risque drunk text recipient if he ever was one (of course he has been, look at that face). Why couldn’t you have just drunk texted ECON160 guy from last semester who Clit DJ’d you underneath your desk at the back of the lecture hall instead?

The thing that made you nervous about Gojo Satoru was that he was just so…confident? Like, in that I was raised to be this way confident and not that I fought inner demons my whole life to barely end up this way confident, y’know? Never had to fake it ‘til he made it, he just was. At least that was the kind of energy you got from him, and unfortunately for you, it was nerve wracking but enticing all at the same time.

You sigh. “Stupid. Stupid. Stuuuuuupiiiiidddddddddddd. You. Are. So. Stuuuuuupiiiiddddddd,” you sigh, running your hands through your hair to grip at the strands.

You pull your phone away from your chest, and finally brave yourself to read the texts from your notifications screen, but not without blurring your vision a little to further stall. And then you finally refocus it to read them. The first one you see has you gasping—

3:24am Gojo Satoru (yuuji’s babysitter): I think about fucking you all the time

It has heat spreading across your cheeks, and you blink at your screen, then quickly swipe up to read the previous messages with rushed glides of your index finger on the screen to see that he had sent it to you in response to your barely coherent texts about how you still so often think about that time he randomly pressed you up against the door of your bedroom to kiss you that night you first met him.

I think about fucking you all the time

At 3 in the morning? He decided to send that text at 3 in the fucking morning? That was the devil’s hour. What’s he trying to tell you?

Oh come on, you’re not stupid. And you know he isn’t either. The sexual tension was palpable, it was there since the day you two met and you almost stabbed him, and also everytime you were visiting the house, and his shoulder brushes against yours when he’s trying to get past you in the kitchen, or when you’ve got Yuuji in your arms and the kid is clinging to Gojo’s sleeve because he wants him near him at all times. There’s even sexual tension over the phone, in those stupid texts he sends you all the time about meaningless child care stuff, and honestly, those little updates made your day.

But… you don’t know much about him, and your mom would kill you if she ever found out you wanted him. And she’d probably pulverize him if she found out he ever made a move on you. Cremated without leaving a trace behind would be an understatement. She thinks he’s no good and she thinks you’re too good. You know she’s warned him before to not get close to you, as if she was pre-emptively expecting him to try to get in your pants like it was some canon force of the universe, hence why he’s probably so fucking awkward around you whenever she’s there too. Like if he accidentally got caught staring at your ankles, your mom would light him on fire, so he’d rather not risk it by just avoiding looking at you at all.

Your mom has always been protective of you. Your father was a deadbeat, one she thought she loved, only to watch him leave. And she had to raise a baby all by herself. He re-entered your lives right before you graduated high school, knocked up your mom again with Yuuji, and guess what? Left again without a trace. To be doubly humiliated by a man is a fate you wouldn’t wish on any woman, but that’s exactly what your mom went through. It was a wake-up call for her, though. No more living paycheck to paycheck like you had been your whole lives up until Yuuji was born. The kid doesn’t even know how lucky he is with everything he has right now. Your mom worked her way up the corporate ladder and made something of herself and now you guys were comfortable, so it was safe to say she had some sort of right to look after her daughter, of whom she simply doesn’t want to follow in the same naive footsteps of her youth.

You get it. She wants to break the generational cycle. But it made being with men tough on all fronts, let alone dating. You could never bring a guy home because he’d never be enough, even if he cured cancer or could make you orgasm while doing a sixty-nine handstand. And while her overbearing paranoia over what you do or where you are or who you’re with has since dimmed slightly since you officially moved out to finish your last year of higher education at NYU, you can still feel her disappointment from a hundred miles away when you’re making out with some random frat guy on his beer-stained couch at eleven AM on a Tuesday.

But you got to college. You’ve already made it this far. You’re on dean’s list. You graduated high school as salutatorian. You’re the most highly decorated cello player in the state. You won Miss County pageant when you were sixteen for your philanthropic efforts towards feline leukemia. You did online community college for three years so you could stick back after high school and help your mom raise Yuuji, which meant that you had to forfeit your scholarship to Cornell. You’ve spent your whole life being good, you just wanna be bad for a little bit.

And if bad meant fucking the hot and mysterious babysitter, then so be it.

You pick your phone up, begin blasting what the hell by Avril Lavigne on your dorm room bluetooth speaker, then type a message to him that says—

10:34am you: do it then

—then shove your phone under the sheets and belt out the lyrics aaaall my life i’ve been good, but now, ahhhh i’m thinkin’ what the hell!!! while kicking your feet and clutching your pillow.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Gojo has no clue what divine entity has overcast their gratuitous spirit over him on this blessed Monday afternoon, but he’ll thank them for it later once his balls are empty.

He’s got you on your back, sprawled across the couch in the living room, the first fuck being a rushed one that you offered him with before he has to go pick Yuuji up from circle time at preschool, which wasn’t ideal, but he’s delirious at the sight of you underneath him right now. Your little NYU shirt, a tighter one this time, bunched up over your bare breasts, otherwise entirely naked other than the flimsy panties dangling at your ankle, and the view of the tip of his cock looking hot and heavy against the velvet of your cunt, slowly pushing in, feeling the warmth of your walls squeeze around him paired with the sweet moan that leaves your lips, makes him fall forward with a bracing hand dug into the cushion by the side of your head because the sensation feels so fucking good he can hardly keep himself upright.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunts, pushing himself in further to try and bottom out but he’s still got a couple inches he needs you to take, and so you curl your hips upwards towards the cieling to make more room for him, practically putting yourself into a mating press and soon enough he’s balls deep, “you on any birth control?”

“Uh-huh,” you moan, eyes closed and head tipped back with one hand squeezing your own tit.

“I can cum inside then, yeah?” he asks you, pushing your knees to your chest, slowly drawing his hips back and you squirm underneath him.

“Let’s get there first, and then we’ll discuss,” you breathe out.

“I’ve been there for the past ten minutes, baby. I could cum at any second with the way you look and feel,” he informs you flatly, because it was just the truth and you had to know it, then he feels himself twitch inside, slowly working up to a languid rhythm, almost fearfully like your mom’s going to pop out somewhere around the corner with a camera crew ready like one of those retro TV shows just to humiliate him on national television for not keeping it in his pants like she’d told him to.

“Harder,” he hears you whisper, and he rolls his eyes shut to just focus on the feeling. The feeling of your nails grazing down the skin of his chest and his abs, tracing the scars he’s collected over the years, and he feels you tightening around him. He leans down to kiss you, fucking you properly now with the squeak of the couch springs echoing across the room, your hums of moans seeping through his lips until he’s fully taking them on with an open-mouthed kiss of sloppy tongue.

The fact that it was wrong felt right to him, and he realizes in this moment he’s lost all sense of control. He wasn’t just an adrenaline junkie that liked to rough up dudes, he was an adrenaline junkie that wanted to fuck you against all better judgement or moral compass. The way your tits were bouncing, the slap of skin on skin, his balls slapping against your ass while you wrap your legs around him tighter, all convincing him that any consequence made it worth it.

“Good,” he groans the praise, pinning your hands above your head as he rams his hips against yours, your cute moans and squeals sounding like literal music to his ears and he feels heat spread all the way up his neck, “goooood, keep squeezin’ me like that, fuck.” He slows down momentarily, just to take a moment and watch, really look and see the way his length disappears inside of your pretty self with every push forward, and then he works back up to a relentless pace that has you tipping your head back with a slack jaw and eyes closed tightly shut, sprained expression of pleasure spread across.

“Oh, oh my god, Satoru—” you mewled and he felt dizzy from the sound of his name from your softly parted lips.

“Fuck, I’m gonna—” His hand finds it’s way between your legs, calloused pads of his fingers brushing against your clit and you jolt underneath him, gasping as your hand shoots out to dig your nails into his bicep for purchase. “I’m gonna cum, better tell me where you want it.”

“In me,” you moan, “nowhere else.”

He presses his mouth against your cheek in a lazy smile, “Atta girl,” he drawls before pushing your ankles down as far as they’d go near your ears, folding you in half and then reigns all hell into your cunt. He should really care a bit more about your pleasure, but testing your flexibility like this with both his hands holding you down was doing sinful things to his brain, and besides, you had yourself covered with the messy circles you were rubbing over your clit. It was hot to see that too, your nimble pretty fingers so close to the place where he was pounding into you.

“Oh shit, shit, shit—” he grunts when starts to see blistering white in his vision, balls straining with a pleasure that was almost painful. The moment he finishes feels like hot flashes in his brain, a heat like the cum he begins to paint inside your walls in time with your release, thrusting over and over and over, each one more staggered as he lets off a long, drawn out groan that comes from deep within his chest with the feeling of you milking him dry and the sound of you enjoying every second of it. He can’t remember the last time he came this much or this hard and even after coming down from the high, he feels the remnant pulse of your orgasm around his now half-flaccid dick.

He leisurely pulls out, hearing you let out a soft whimper as he marvels at the sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you and down towards the couch, before he scoops it up with a couple fingers and pushes it back inside. You grip his wrist tightly, but you weren’t stopping it, that motion of him plunging it all back into you.

“Want a taste?” he asks, casually.

“Mhm,” you nod, face looking flush.

He pulls his fingers out of you, coated with sex, then plugs your pussy with the fingers of his other hand because he kinda likes the idea of you walking around all day with him inside of you, so he doesn’t want it getting out. He’s then pushing his other fingers past your lips, pleased to find he’s met with not even so much as a grazing of teeth, and he grins, “bet you take a dick in your mouth as good as you take it down here.”

Your furrow your brows at him, the pout of your lips seen in the way they were puckered to lick his fingers off clean, and when you release the suction with a smack of your tongue and his fingers were wet from your saliva now, his eyes narrow with desire. You push his face away with the heel of your palm to his forehead. “Flattery won’t make me suck your dick.”

“Alright. So? How is it?” he jerks his chin towards your face, pushing against your hand with his forehead until he’s hovering over you again, “taste good?”

“It’s cum, Satoru.”

He shrugs. “Bad?”

“No,” you say, and you can’t make eye contact, “good.” You sigh. “Hot. I don’t know. Salty, sweet. I’m the sweet. You’re the salty. And this conversation is obscene.”

He kisses you, capturing your lips softly, tongue darting out to taste what’s on yours. “I like it that way. Dirty. Nasty. Obscene, whatever.”

There’s the slam of a car door heard from the driveway, and the two of you instantly make eye contact with round eyes.

“Sa—” you stutter, “Satoru.”

He gets up off the couch in a panic, and heads to the window of the living room fully butt-ass naked, then peers through the blinds to see—

Your mom was making it up towards the front door, rustling with her keys in her purse. And the last thing he sees before he turns around to face you is her pushing the keys through the lock.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit,” he cusses, finding his boxers off of the floor, hopping on one foot with his cum & slick coated dick flapping around and slapping against his thighs unceremoniously as he tries to get one leg in through them and then the other. You’re trembling as you hook your panties back into place, pull your shirt back down your torso, and even in his extremely panicked state, he’s still sad he can’t freely stare at your tits anymore. You’re rummaging for your skirt in a haste, looking everywhere for it, and he finds it underneath the coffee table before tossing it to you and then he side-to-side hops towards the coat closet while he pulls his sweatpants up over his ass, in time for you to quickly run and shut the door of the closet closed just before the front door of the house swings open.

The inside of the coat closet is dark, barely enough space in there for a six-foot-four two-hundred-and-twenty pound man, but it’s better than being balls deep inside his boss’s daughter on the couch when said boss just came home from work.

He hears conversation on the other side of the door, albeit muffled, and he presses his ear to it to hear better while he tucks his dick into his boxers from where it was hanging over the waistline.

“Mom! You…you’re home so early,” he hears you squeak out.

“Yes,” your mom says, “The rest of my meetings today are online, so I figured I’d come home when there’s less traffic.”

Gojo feels you lean against the coat closet door.

“I see, I see, how was your day at work?” you ask with a tremble in your voice.

“Fine.” And then nothing. The silence could mean that was all she had to say, since your mom wasn’t really a woman of many words, or it could be a silence that means she’s suspicious about something. “Darling, why is your skirt flipped up and tucked into your panties? Your whole butt is showing.”

Through the wood of the door, he hears you softly gasp. “Oh, um, I just went to pee. Must’ve—…must’ve got caught when I pulled it back up.”

“I see,” your mother says, and Gojo can hear her dropping her heels down near the shoe rack at the entrance. “You know, I really don’t like those short skirts you wear often. Maybe it’s just your generation, but I think it looks tacky and cheap.”

“Mom,” you say, in as stern of a voice as you can manage without sounding embarrassed.

Your mother sighs. “In any case, where is Satoru? I still would like him to go pick up Yuuji. I don’t have the patience to sit in preschool & daycare traffic right now.”

“Oh gosh, I don’t know,” you chirp, and then he hears you let out a small oh no before you lean even more weight against the door, this time somewhere lower, and he realizes you’re pressing your ass against it. His eyes narrow with a small frown, and then he realizes— his cum must still be trickling down your thighs. You couldn’t put your panties on fast enough.

Shit. That’s hot. A little fucked up, but hot. He feels his dick harden against the fabric of his boxers, and he rests his forehead against the door, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat as he slips his hands down his sweatpants and then gives his cock a firm squeeze. The thought of you discretely swiping his cum up your inner thigh and smearing it against your thin panties so your mom doesn’t catch sight of it dripping down your legs has him slowly working up to a rock-solid erection, and he almost lets out a broken grunt from the feeling.

“What?” your mother says, “what do you mean you don’t know?”

“I’ve just been watching TV this whole time,” you say, “last time I saw him…he was…um, in the backyard pulling weeds?”

He lets out a small scoff through his nose at your cover-up. Cute. And not bad.

Your mother sighs loudly, and he glances down at the strained veins on his dick as he tugs it through his hand, the tip rearing and appearing flushed and dripping with precum. God, you were just on the other side of this door. Less than a few inches away, and he’d be inside of you.

“I’m going to take a shower. Go find him and tell him to pick up Yuuji soon. But before then, change into something less revealing,” your mother says in a more or less detached tone, and he can hear the stomps of her footsteps up the stairs from above him in the coat closet.

The two of you wait at least a solid minute, and just when the coast is clear, he hears you turn the knob of the coat closet and slowly crack it open.

“Okay, I think she’s in the shower, I hear the water running,” you whisper at him, “you can go now—” You glance down towards his groin, your jaw dropping. “What—…Satoru, why the fuck is your dick staring at me right now?!” you whisper-hiss at him.

He pulls you into the coat closet, pushing your front against the door to where it clicks shut, and you gasp when his hands pin your wrists crossed behind your back and his dick presses into the plush of your ass.

“You talkin’ to your mom while your pussy’s stuffed full of my cum was the single hottest thing that’s ever grazed my lizard brain,” he tells you, flipping your skirt up and hooking your panties to the side, his index finger briefly brushing against your entrance to find it still leaking from the way your walls were pulsating from his words. And then he aligns his tip to your entrance. “Now keep quiet while I do this, ‘kay?”

“Oh—” you gasp, your cheek pressed against the door as you arch your back and push your ass out for him, “okay—” you say, barely vocalizing the first syllable before he’s already stuffing himself inside of you with one solid glide of a push, making you yelp loudly and he has to instantly cup a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhhhh,” he hisses at you, immediately starting to pound you from behind, “told you to— fuuuck,” he catches sight of his length covered with a mix of your glassy arousal and his white cum, now starting to cream at the base of his cock, “jesus christ—” he breathes out, squeezing the flesh of your ass harshly with his other hand and you let out another yelp, “I told you to fuckin’ keep quiet.”

“I’m—mff,” you muffle against his palm, “I’m trying but,” your hips move back in time with his, “feels good, feels too good,” you mewl, and his hand desperately yanks up the fabric of your shirt so he can squeeze at your breast.

“Yeah?” he grunts, hypocritical for telling you to keep it down when he was slamming his hips against your ass with so much fervor he wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was reverberating across the entire house, “you like it when I fuck you while your mom’s all clueless just up the stairs?” His rhythm falters, feeling his release building, and his hand reaches in front of you to rub your clit, making you drop your head against the door with tightly closed eyes. “Gets— you—wet, doesn’t it?” he torments you, his lips near your ear as he slams his hips against you harshly with every enunciated syllable.

“Mhm, mhm,” you easily agree, or maybe that’s because it’s all you can really articulate, and he angles his hips up so his balls slap more fervently against your clit, making you scream into his palm while he picks up the pace of the circles he draws on your clit and in one, two, three— beats of his pounding heart, he feels you come undone around his cock, gushing wetness leaking out of you, he can feel the mess of fluids splattering on the skin of his thighs due to each of his heaving thrusts as he cusses out a fuuuuuuckkk before spilling his cum inside of you, a short-lived and thicker release this time that has you mewling from overstimulation, and in a few following thrusts, he’s given you everything he had to give.

His eyes open, he wasn’t even aware he had shut them in the first place, and he glances down at where the two of you were joined. Rings of arousal coat the length of his half-pulled-out dick, and the second he retreats all of it, a bulging push of his cum seeps out of you, dripping and pooling all over the hardwood floors.

“Holy shit, I wish I could take a picture of this,” he says, taking a step away to commit the sight to memory, your legs trembling and still slightly spread, ass pushed out and when you wiggle it a little, he lets out a huff of an exhale because he just can’t believe how sexy you are. Are all college girls like this? He’s never been to college, his old man’s been trying to get him to go for years, but maybe this is what finally convinces him.

“No pics,” you breathe out once you catch your breath, standing up straight slowly, “that’s my one sex rule.”

He takes a step closer to you, flipping your skirt back over your ass while you shimmy your shirt down to cover your chest. “That’s the only rule you have? Anything else goes?” he asks.

You spin around to face him, his eyes briefly flitting down to the still exposed skin of your midriff. “I have a feeling I’d be making up more specific rules if it was with you.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing your hips before pressing you up against the door again. “I also had a rule. It was to not fuck you. Wait, no, to not flirt with you. Which, technically, I didn’t do.”

You blink your eyes at him. “You’re kidding, right?”

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused, “I didn’t.”

“Huh—” you scoff, “how do you think we got into this situation in the first place?? You didn’t just say wanna fuck? You were insufferably flirty with me.”

“Nahhh nah nah nah nah, baby, that’s not flirting,” he tells you, thumb running circles over your hips, “that’s, like—…I don’t even fuckin’ know how it worked on you to be honest, I was just being stupid.”

“Oh okay so I’m stupid.”

“I never said you were stupid?”

“Well you said you were being stupid so me falling for it must mean I’m stupid.”

“Pshhh. You’re cute. Pulling weeds, by the way? Adorable.”

Your hand slowly roams up the front of his shirt, the fabric bunching at your wrists until you uncovered up to his collar bone, and you stare at his skin. He tries to not let the way his heart’s beating faster show through the heave of his chest.

“Why do you have all these scars, anyway?” you whisper to him.

“Too many girls tryna stab me,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously.” Your thumb traces the one you had left on him.

“I—” He stops himself.

Does he tell you? Should he tell you? What, just because he’s seen you naked and you took his dick like a queen he’s supposed to open up to you about these things now? He doesn’t know. Maybe he could? Maybe you already suspect what he does at night. And if not, at the very least, I’m an underground boxer might make you think he’s hot? At the very worst, you’ll report him to the cops and he’d get fired as your little brother’s babysitter then thrown into jail, but not before the busted cartel gets him first.

“Maybe I’ll tell you some other time,” he says, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling it from his chest, “no hyper personal details until you’ve had my dick in your mouth at least once or twice. That’s my one rule.”

You snort. “I could’ve guessed that rule from a mile away.”

He hums. And then there’s the sound of steps creaking down the stairs above the two of you.

You both make eye contact, eyes widening, internally yelling at each other: how the fuck did we get into this situation twice?!

This time, Gojo opens the door and stumbles out of the closet, leaving you inside of it, just in time for your mom to come down the stairs.

“Satoru. I was looking for you,” she says as she rounds the post. “Have you picked up Yuuji? He has to go for his swimming lessons soon.”

“Ah, nope, was just about to head out,” he says, letting out a cough to diffuse tension, “sorry, I was—” he points his thumb over his shoulder to behind him, “…pulling out some gnarly weeds.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I see. Well, thanks. If you want, I can add a gardening stipend to your paycheck. Let me know.” And he’s not sure how to respond because he’s not sure if she’s joking.

He heads out the door, the keys to your mom’s minivan in his palm as he throws them up into the air and catches them a couple times. And just before he gets inside the car, he turns on his heel to face the house and pulls his phone out of his pocket to type in a message for you.

3:22pm Gojo Satoru: Send over those me-specific sex rules soon

[the end]

a/n. hope u enjoyed im shitting bricks posting this bc i haven't posted a oneshot smut since february but thanks so much for reading i appreciate u!! i got way too invested in the whole underground boxer thing 😂😂 but the fact i managed to keep everything under 12k is an accomplishment to me bc if u read my other fics you know i’m a yapper LOL i have another kind of a similarly written smut oneshot n it’s a lil angsty (totally different au tho) i’ll probs post that one next but yea i really like, hmm, i really like exploring entire characters within a short amount of time i enjoy writing the obscure lore drops xd it’s been kinda fun so far anywho much loveee hope to see u around! <3

➸ masterlist

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@beabadobeee @air3922 @timetoletmyimaginationfly @chiyokoemilia @jotarohat

@sirencholia @sorcerersseestars @horisdope @to-dabi @staoru

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driftwooddestiel · 9 months ago

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my irl friend is going insane tonight it seems… tag rant incoming be warned

#bestie when people say ‘don’t talk about people behind their back’ the appropriate response is NOT to say #‘LOL i’m in my hater era. psa i hate myself im an attention seeking loser’#like bro… pls think for a second 😭 sometimes you can just like read what people have to say and think about it then shut up #it’s annoying cos like i get it… everybody wants to complain about people sometimes and say overly stupidly rude things sometimes #but you know what you do with that? you say it somewhere like say notes app or your mind or a piece of paper or etc etc.#you make the decision to NOT share those thoughts because they have impacts! aaaa #‘oh what do you want me to do??’ it’s so simple man. literally just don’t make fun of people behind their back argh #sorry for the kinda vent gamers i’m just exploding 😔

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fullsunstrawberry · 3 months ago

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Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone.

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Haechan.” The barista called out.

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful.

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy."

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly."

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief.

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking.

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung.

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party.

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear.

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

"Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink.

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you.

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over.

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!”

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something."

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!”

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit.

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company.

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

“Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

“I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

“Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs.

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you.

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing.

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence.

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave.

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading.

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs.

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss.

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive.

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily.

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise.

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them.

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers.

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches.

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!”

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan.

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd.

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you.

"Okay."

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him.

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you.

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination.

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?"

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse.

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address.

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.”

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words.

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this.

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed.

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone.

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY??

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan.

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day.

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet.

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture.

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point.

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.”

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes”

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes.

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time.

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.”

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal.

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him.

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back.

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you.

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms.

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all.

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident.

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in.

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy."

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight.

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head.

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.”

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence.

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up.

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door.

“Trust me.”

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick.

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night.

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.”

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady.

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no.

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd.

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open.

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more.

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed.

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body.

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin.

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet.

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was.

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine.

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely.

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing.

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath.

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing.

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression.

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch.

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating.

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours.

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face.

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length.

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue.

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came.

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked.

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above.

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

“Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light.

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…”

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!”

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…”

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…”

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer.

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

“It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.”

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment.

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low.

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly.

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly.

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect.

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours.

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased.

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off.

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you.

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him.

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him.

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building.

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest.

Commented/Reblog on preview: @chan-yeoldelling @iiilorii @sourrpatched @kynessa @x-jaehyunluvr-x @euphormiia @hyucksaint @sunghoonsgfreal @nessaassen02 @bunnychui @14juno @yewshi @beomgyusonlywife @ohmykwonsoonyoung @viciousdarlings @doejaejung @numberonekeehostan @t3kandson @yeosangteef @leejenoenthusiast @injunnie-lemon @hamstersprincess @jenjwi @0825-zip @neodreamzennie @buuuubbus @sthwaaberry

#nct dream #haechan #nct dream haechan #donghyuck #haechan angst #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan nct #nct haechan #haechan smut #donghyuck x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst

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sunrizef1 · 7 months ago

Text

Monaco Green

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: suicide jokes in relation to a happy relationship? (Yall know what I mean)

Authors note: more Lando!

Requested: Yes/No

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yourusername

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by user1 user2 and 13,800 others

yourusername took a day-trip away from London to go visit Monaco, bit posher than I’m used to, vlog coming soon xx 💚💚💚

In the meantime, new cooking video is up now, we made pesto pasta! 🍝

load comments…

user1 I’m actually in love with her

user2 she’s so pretty!

user3 who’s behind the camera in the pasta video???

user4 is it her editor???

user5 James??? Nah, he’s American, the guy in the video is British

user6 secret boyfriend???

user7 why Monaco?

yourusername visiting a friend! It was quite nice, might have to consider moving 🤔

user8 no offense but how tf would she afford Monaco rent

user9 yk these influencers and their rich parents

user10 so pretty 🥰

yourusername thank you, love 🫶

user11 I love her phone case 💚💚

user12 “we” made pesto pasta 🤔

user13 I loved the new karting vid!!! James had no chance lol, how r u so good?!

yourusername I had a good instructor haha, helps that James is absolutely abysmal at it

jamesedits that’s rude, we don’t all have experienced go-karters to teach us 😒

user14 I want to be her friend so bad, omg her life seems so cool

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landonorris

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by jamesedits maxfewtrell and 3,008,996 others

landonorris Monaco green 💚

load comments…

user15 the soft-launch????

user16 who is that??????

user17 not Lando posting his secret girlfriend on a random Tuesday

user18 ooh but she’s got good taste in nails I’ll give her that

user19 and who tf is that then

maxfewtrell ah, bold innit?

landonorris 🤐

user20 wtf is max talking about

user21 all we get is hands????

user22 some Twitter detectives about to figure out who that is just based on the hands i bet my life

user23 and if I told you I know who that is, then what

user24 now how tf do you know that

user23 pure vibes and delusion

user25 who taught this man to soft-launch???

user26 I can tell she’s pretty

user27 NOOOOOOOO

user28 what about our marriage and kids???

oscarpiastri she’s lovely

landonorris you have not met her

oscarpiastri this is your sign to change that

oscarpiastri and from what you’ve told me, she is lovely

landonorris she is

user29 awww I already love her

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by user1 user2 and 31,998 others

yourusername supposed to be a one day trip but now it’s been three days 😅

Day 1 Monaco vlog is up now! 💚

load comments…

user30 is this the girl that Twitter thread was about????

user31 she has the phone case!!!!

user32 you can’t tell me that the “tour guide” in the vlog isn’t Lando

user33 love that James was so against the sunshine the entire time lmao

jamesedits I’m white and from London, I can’t survive in the sun 😔

user34 I love the green 💚💚💚

user35 is this landos girlfriend????

user36 are yall just harassing this poor girl because she has a popular phone case??!! 😭😭

jamesedits can I go home now

yourusername pls do, you third-wheel too much

user37 third-wheeling???? I sense landooo

user38 are you staying with that friend you mentioned

user39 pretty girl 🤩

user40 if you go to the part of the vlog when they’re walking the circuit and go over the grand hotel hairpin, on my life you can see Lando for a split-second in the background

user41 are you sure that’s him and not James?

user40 James was wearing a black jacket, that guy was wearing like a beige hoodie

user42 I just binged like 20 of her videos because I heard she might be dating Lando and now I’m in love with her 😭😭😭

user43 I’m convinced it’s her just because of the phone case and yall can’t change my mind

jamesedits I had to work overtime to get all that footage cut quickly so you’re welcome

yourusername “work overtime” you are on vacation it’s hardly working

jamesedits don’t police my stress

yourusername 🙄

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yourusername added to their story

landonorris

🤩🤩🤩🤩

yourusername

🫶

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landonorris

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by yourusername charles_leclerc and 3,006,001 others

landonorris 3 days of Monaco with a guest 💚

load comments…

user44 GREEN AGAIN

user45 and if I told you that phone case girl had that same hat in her Instagram post then what

user46 “three days of Monaco” “supposed to be a day-trip but it’s been three days”

user47 that third picture must be from day 1 because someone’s wearing that same beige hoodie in the back of her day 1 vlog

user48 and the green ny hat???

user49 y/n was wearing green converse on her insta story!!!

user50 AND SHE LIKED!!!!

user51 I recognize those shoessss

user52 this is so cute 😭🫶

oscarpiastri she’s lovely!

landonorris now you can say that

oscarpiastri it was lovely to meet her 🫶

landonorris I’ll tell her you said that

user53 the green aesthetic is so adorable omg I love it so much

user54 LANDO DONT BE SCARED TAG HER

user54 OR POST HER ACTUAL FACE

user54 OR EVEN A STRAND OF HAIR PLEASE LANDO

user55 bathing with a toaster tonight dhmu

user56 wdym my husband has a gf? 😭

user57 what about our kids Lando?? What about the kids?

user58 I’ve never even seen her face but that’s my mom now I don’t make the rules 🤷‍♀️

——————————————

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris oscarpiastri and 78,661 others

yourusername Day-trip —> full-time stay

More Monaco vlogs to come, then 😅

Monaco day 1 vlog (Lando’s version) is up now, thank you to James for re-including all the clips of him that he'd previously cut out 🫶

load comments…

user59 AWWWWWWW

user60 where’s the user who guessed this from the start

user61 James I going through it

jamesedits it’s bad enough I had to scrub through all the clips of them being lovey-dovey but then I had to look at all of them again to put them back in the vlog

jamesedits and NOW she’s gonna put these clips in EVERY VIDEO! THEYRE SO GROSS!

user62 oh my god poor James 😭

user63 somebody get James a pay raise

yourusername don’t listen to him, he’s like a dog, he’ll act sad to strangers but in reality he gets treated perfectly fine and gets fed on time every day, he doesn’t need any more treats

jamesedits I don’t appreciate being compared to a dog

landonorris dw about it mate, you’d be a nice little yorki

jamesedits 🤨

user64 LANDO!

user65 they both look so good im frothing at the mouth

landonorris glad I could convince you to stay

yourusername you’re very convincing

user66 sleeping on train tracks tonight

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landonorris

📍Monte Carlo, Monaco

liked by yourusername maxfewtrell and 5,000,881 others

landonorris might have to get her a different phone case…💚

Tagged: yourusername

load comments…

user67 SHE GOT A TAG!!!!

user68 Y/N!!!!!

user69 awww they’re adorable 🥰

user70 I’ve followed y/n for years and it’s so nice to see her so happy 😭

user71 HES PESTO PASTA GUY

user72 knowing it’s him makes it make sense as to why he never actually cooks in the video

user73 man moved to Monaco and still found an English girl

user74 I wish my rich athlete boyfriend would convince me to move in with him in his Monaco home… 😞

user75 I’m in love with both of themmmmm

maxfewtrell she made the main page! And you can see her face! Congrats mate!

landonorris 😐😑😐

maxfewtrell seriously though, happy 4 u

landonorris thanks max

user76 now I need to know where she got the phone case

yourusername wildflower!

user76 omg I wasn’t expecting a reply! Tysm!

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user77 I’ve never been more interested in a relationship

user78 HARD-LAUNCH

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landonorris 💚💚💚

user79 oh my god they’re so perfect

————————————

@casperlikej @evie-119

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 smau #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #lando imagine #lando norris imagine

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awrkive · 4 months ago

Text

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 3 — JJK

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 18.7k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments, litol bit of #domesticity, FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, angst if you squint??????????, the x file spoiler lol, suits cameo (me inserting my niche interests into conversations), the biggest warning of this part is: naked jungkook 💀

NOTES sorry for being almost 3 hours late efhkjdhfd i overestimated my abilities a bit mb mb anyway, AGAIN, i want to thank you guys for the overwhelming support! i want to take this opportunity to announce that i'll be taking a break from nb for around 2 weeks to work on my new jungkook one-shot fic that i will be posting for his birthday ❤️ if you are interested, i have posted the teaser on my tumblr page. LASTLY pls let me know your thoughts!! i LOVE LOOOVEEE reading every single one of your replies/reblogs/asks. i hope you enjoy this one and have a good weekend ahead!!!!!!

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN (REPLY IN THE COMMENT SECTION. PLS DO NOT SEND AN ASK ABOUT IT)

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You always wonder how a company this big seems to not have any budget lent for a copier that actually works – something that one doesn’t need to violently slap just for it to function perfectly.

You’ve been a victim not just once but five times to its inefficiency, the recent mishap being a month ago when the ink blots jumped right over the cuff of your shirt.

With the way that you’ve been harassing the copier at the very moment, you’ll say it’s about to do you wrong for the sixth time and you absolutely can’t let it happen anymore – not when you’re currently wearing a white polo shirt that stupidly costs a little too much more than anything in your wardrobe (you decided to spend a little more than usual last New Year’s).

So, with a last unnecessary kick to the bottom of the machine (out of pure spite) you left the copier room of your floor and think, fuck it – go to the IT department and ask Taemu to back you up from his supervisor so you can use their copier instead – which is something you’re not so sure of.

It’s embarrassing to go there just to ask him for help. Not with your history. But admittedly not that much of a history. After all, he seems to be cool with you and everything seems to be pretty chill. You can just go there; ask a little favor from a friend, and then hurry down to your floor.

There are some other options, though. Like, you can always ask the intern to do it for you. But the thing is, you kind of feel bad for those three. Your co-workers are doing a lot already; asking to fetch them things all around the building, buy them snacks, stuff like that. There’s another one but she’s way too quiet and didn’t really take shit from any of her seniors… which is kind of intimidating – but she's someone you wish you were when you were also an intern. You personally don’t want to help cultivate a somewhat toxic journey for the other three because you also started the same way as them. Beyond that, it would also be too rude to ask favors from Taemu indirectly.

You’re ultimately left with little and only one choice.

The elevator dings and the doors open after it does so.

One of the people in it is a woman you’ve never met around before. Long, black hair; tailored suit, slender figure, and a posture that screams she’s never hunched her back in her entire life.

Other people that entered at the same time as you start to bow their heads down slightly and greet a polite, “Good afternoon.”

You mirror their gesture as well.

As you step inside and settle on a spot, you wonder who she is.

An executive, maybe? She looks very put-together, and there’s authority that hangs over her frame… but exceptionally young in the physical aspect. Jungkook is also young, though – and he’s an executive, so that’s entirely possible. Additionally, others seem to know her. Or they're just pretending to know her like you did. Did you miss a ceremony? A meeting? Or did you gloss over some HR email again? You’ll have to check later to find out if that’s the case.

Anyway, your curiosity doesn’t last long when the elevator doors open once again, indicating the IT department floor.

You already texted Taemu awhile ago that you were on your way so he should meet you on-time.

As you walk down the hallway with your phone in your hand, your attention is caught by a familiar voice.

“Hey,”

You look up from your phone and see Taemu waving not too far away, heading towards your direction. It doesn’t take him long to get near you. When he does, you give him a smile.

“Taemu, hi.” You say as a small greeting. Taemu lifts his hand and you thought he was going for a high-five, so you lift your hand as well to meet the gesture. But then he leans in closer, one arm about to enclose your waist, and that’s when you realize he was actually gearing up for a hug.

Taemu seems to register that you weren’t exactly going for the same thing, so he steps back. He seems shy when you look at him in confusion.

“Oh, okay, sorry,” He offers his hand again, but just when you’re already thinking about hugging him because that was what he originally meant to do, he speaks just as you lean in closer to hug him. “I thought we were high-five-ing?”

Embarrassed, your hands retreat to yourself.

“I thought... you wanted to hug?” You chuckle.

“Okay, let’s just—” Taemu steps closer again and this time, it’s more than clear to you what he wants to do.

You reciprocate the hug he gives.

“This is so stupid.” You say, chuckling against his neck. The contact is quick as you two simultaneously break apart.

Taemu laughs at your remark, nodding his head. Then he gestures ahead, pointing to the direction of the copy room.

“Your copier not working again?” He asks as you walk down the hallway together.

You heave a sigh. “Yeah, they really need to change that one. Anyway, have you told Mr. Lee?” You ask, referring to his supervisor.

Teamu nods his head, opening the door to the copy room for you.

“Yeah, it’s fine with him. Just sign the logbook and stuff.”

“Thanks, Taemu.” You say, quickly getting to work, feeling slightly delighted at how their machine smoothly does its job and not like the one at all in your department. “Hey, I’m really sorry for bothering you with this.” You lament as you wait for the paper to slide out.

Taemu waves his hand, shaking his head at you. “It’s fine.”

You purse your lips into a thin line, giving him a somewhat apprehensive smile. The paper comes out and you get your thing. After a quick scan to see if the copier got everything right, you look back at Taemu to say, “Thanks again, Taemu. I really appreciate this.”

“No worries. Anytime.”

When you announce that you’re done, Taemu calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum, looking at him and wait for his next words.

He looks coy when he rubs a hand on the back of his head.

“Can I take you out for lunch?” He says, and you still in your position. Taemu seems like he surprised himself with his own words. You open your mouth to speak but then he beats you to it quickly, “It’s not a date. I phrased that as a date – but it’s not – ah, this is all coming out wrong,” Taemu chuckles, interrupting himself. With his hands in his slacks' pockets, he leans to a random table inside the room and looks at you with a more confident stance this time, as if he just gave himself a quick internal pep talk after jumbling his words. “What I meant to say is, if we can go out for lunch together today?”

You chuckle. You were just about to say yes. Contrary to his assumption, you didn’t really take his first question as an invitation for a date. Besides, he helped you with the copier today.

Nodding your head, you offer him a grin as you say, “Yeah. I’ll go to lunch with you.”

Taemu walks you to the elevator even though you said he doesn’t need to. He's insistent but you let it, anyway.

Taemu puts his hands on both sides of the door before it closes. The ride is pretty much empty except for yourself.

“When are you off?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. “Is 12:15 okay?”

Taemu nods. “Sure. See you at 12:15?”

“Yeah. Later.”

The elevator closes and you laugh to yourself when you catch Taemu awkwardly waving his hand at you goodbye.

“No, you didn’t, I kicked your ass at mini golf!” You say, laughing as Taemu looks at you with squinted eyes, obviously saying that was absolutely not what happened on your date a few months ago.

“Uh, you disregarded all the rules.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, fine. Rules do not matter, though. It’s just some stick and a ball and… fake grass.”

Taemu laughs, surrendering his hands to the air, nodding when he says, “Fair, fair.”

You’re currently at a restaurant not too far away from your company building. It took Taemu and you about five minutes to get here; just a quick waiting time to cross the pedestrian lane to get from one street to the other.

Looking around, you can actually see some people inside wearing your company lace. The restaurant’s sort of like a famous spot around the company, though, so it doesn't necessarily surprise you. You’ve also had a few company dinners here some time ago.

Safe to say, lunch with Taemu is going… okay so far.

No – actually, it’s way better than you thought it would be.

You could have never, ever predicted that you’ll be out with him alone again after… you know, ghosting him. Your whole assessment of his character has also changed a bit after the whole fiasco.

See, some guys start feeling entitled over your permission and consent when you entertain them even just for a bit. When you go on dates and you break it to them that it’s just not working out between you two, they start to act weird. Like you’ve hurt them. Or that you lead them on – even though it’s absolutely not the case.

But Taemu’s proving himself to be different. You honestly expected him to act like that guy because he seems the type after your first date. But he surprises you by acting the total, complete opposite.

He’s so… nice. So casual. Like nothing happened. You feel bad because right now, you've officially confirmed to yourself that you totally misjudged him.

You can’t believe you’ll say this, but Taemu is not an asshole. Like at all.

Even now, you’re recalling what happened to your date and laughing about some of the memories of it, and it feels so long ago you’re starting to remember it differently.

“Anyway, this milkshake’s really good,” you say, taking your glass and looking at it curiously.

“Yeah? I told you,” Taemu grins, eating from his own plate.

“You always come here?” You ask out of curiosity since he seems to be familiar with the menu.

“Sort of? I mean, I try to take in the city as much as I can.” You nod, recalling what he told you before. He came from Daegu, and it’s his first time in Seoul.

Before you can say anything to that, the waiter comes to your table and gives you your bill.

Taemu and you simultaneously take out your wallets. When he sees you do it, though, he’s quick to shake his head, gesturing for you to not bother.

“No, no, it’s fine. I got it.”

“I got it, too,” You say, smiling at him, already picking out your card, ready to put it inside the check presenter.

“__,” Taemu says your name while chuckling. “I swear, it’s fine. I was the one who invited you for lunch.”

“Taemu,” You call him, using the same tone he used. Taemu grins at that. “I think we should split the bill.”

It’s only fair, you think. You ate pretty much the same thing.

You hold what felt like a minute staring competition until Taemu gives in and lets you stack your card on top of his in the booklet.

You’re about to resume eating – pick up on the conversation you left a few minutes ago – when your phone dings on the table, a message popping out on the notification center.

When you read the contact name, your eyes widen but you relax your face real quick lest Taemu asks questions.

“Sorry,” you say, pointing to your phone. Taemu nods, understanding. You pick the device in your hands, turn to your other side to not be rude, and read the text from Jungkook.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:47pm]: hey I bought you lunch Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:48pm]: i was gonnna ask you to go with me earlier but I got busy with some papers

Shoot.

You’ve done a pretty good job of not thinking about Jungkook at all for the entirety of the day. You woke up so early this morning that you waited for twenty whole minutes for your bus just so you can avoid seeing Jungkook because everytime his name pops up in your thoughts, you remember what you did the night before and it just messes with your head so much.

Listen, you aren’t embarrassed about trying to get yourself off. It’s just masturbation. It’s a carnal need and it’s totally normal. What you are not proud of is the way you thought about him – out of all people – and how it actually made you feel… a little more motivated to get yourself there.

But it’s a slip-up. A big mistake.

How are you supposed to look him in the eyes after that and act like you didn’t do what you did? Granted, you did stop before it escalated. But still, the point is that you thought about him while you were pleasuring yourself. Even if it was for a tiny bit second, it still counts!

Stupid fucking ovulation, you think to yourself with bitterness. You’re a much better person without it, you swear. You don’t go around thinking about men when you try to get yourself off, not at all! Personally, your head is mostly blank when you go through it.

But Jungkook left two texts. And he’s probably seen the read tag on his end already.

You [12:49pm]: I just got lunch ): thank you for buying me one tho that’s really nice ofu

You turn your phone off after sending your reply, placing it on the empty space of your table. When you look at Taemu, he’s eyeing something behind you. With furrowed brows, the question about what he’s looking at is on the tip of your tongue when he suddenly says,

“Isn’t that Mr. Jeon?”

“W-what?” You stammer, not sure if you heard him right.

The knots on Taemu’s forehead fades, and then he nods to himself. “I’m pretty sure that’s Mr. Jeon. He’s going this way.”

“Wha—”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon.” Taemu stands up from his seat and does a slight bow for greeting.

Without thinking about it, you mirror Taemu’s action, bowing your head longer than necessary.

“Good afternoon, M-mr. Jeon,”

It’s no use to avoid his gaze, though.

When you look at Jungkook, he seems pretty much just as surprised to see you. You look away, but your eyes fall to his hand, and you see that it carries a take-out paper bag from the restaurant. You think about his text.

“Good afternoon.” Jungkook says with an easy-going smile. He goes from surprised to casual real quick and glosses over you as if he doesn’t know you.

You don’t really know how that makes you feel.

“I was just going, have fun with your lunch.” He says and politely bids his goodbye, going straight to the direction of the restaurant’s door.

“He’s really cool, you know?” Taemu brings up when you both sit down again.

“I— huh?”

“You must have heard about the new project they’re starting at the end of this month, right?” He asks curiously.

You sit there stunned. Stunned from earlier’s interaction with Jungkook but also because you don’t really know what the hell Taemu’s talking about.

“No… I didn’t get any memo…?” You say instead, trying not to act way too oblivious lest he thinks you’re lazy or something. Not that it matters! You’re not trying to impress him or anything.

Taemu nods. “Well, you’ll probably know about it soon.”

But your head's too far gone now, still stuck on what happened a minute ago.

You look over at your phone while Taemu speaks, hoping for it to light up with a new notification from the messaging app.

A few minutes passed by and it doesn’t, even when you leave the restaurant.

You don’t really know why you’re here.

It’s been three days since that night in Jungkook’s place where you tried to bake in his kitchen, so it’s also been three days since you started practicing during the nights after work to perfect your cookies. Tonight, it just so happens that the cookies finally taste edible and honestly, it’s more than okay.

So, maybe that’s why you find yourself in front of Jungkook’s door with a plastic container in your hands, decently-baked cookies prettily arranged inside.

Jungkook was with you when you made those pathetic excuses for cookies, so you thought it’s only fair for him to try these ones and tell you what he thinks. Brag a little. Maybe have a little chitchat if he’s free or whatever.

It’s also… sort of like a peace offering for something he doesn’t need to know about. You can’t tell him you’re sorry for thinking about him when you did the deed because that’s just plain weird.

Speaking of weird, though, the interaction from yesterday left you feeling a little empty. There’s this gnawing feeling inside of you that something went wrong – but you can’t exactly point out why. Jungkook also hasn’t texted you after that – which isn’t out of the ordinary. You don’t text everyday and you don’t meet every single day, either – for the record. You’re both busy people. You can only imagine Jungkook’s schedule.

Anyway, if there’s anything that you learned about your friendship with Jungkook, it’s that you don’t need to lie to him. You just have to knock on his door and he’ll unintentionally clear your doubts by being the voice of reason because he’s nice like that.

You do hope though that tonight clears any weird air between you. Maybe you’ll find out later on that there’s nothing weird going on at all and you’re just overthinking stuff as usual.

You’re about to ring the doorbell twice when the door finally opens, showing you Jungkook still wearing his polo shirt. He looks like he’s just gotten home from work, red tie undone around his neckline and a few buttons popped open.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hey,” Jungkook looks at you, obviously wondering what brought you to his door.

“I wanted to give you this,” you hand him the plastic container which he takes with a confused look. “Those are cookies. I baked them. I didn’t give you anything when I baked two nights ago because they were bad.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods, looking down at the plastic. He smiles, then leans on his doorway. “So it’s good now?”

You gesture a so-so with your hand. “Don’t set your expectations too high. It’s not exactly Poilâne. But it tastes like matcha cookies, I swear.” When Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, you decide to add, “You also won’t get food poisoning, if you’re worried about that.”

Jungkook gives you an amused look. “I wasn’t… worried about that.”

“It’s a simple disclaimer. Just in case, you know, you suddenly feel weird in the stomach…” Jungkook arches his brow while you trail off. You roll your eyes lightheartedly. “I’m kidding.”

He lets out a chuckle and then stands upright. “Thank you for this.”

“No worries,” you say. You shift your weight from one foot to another. “Uh, do you wanna grab dinner? Right now?”

Jungkook looks at you apologetically.

“I really wish we could, but I have to finish something tonight. Work stuff.”

“Oh,” You nod immediately. “Okay. Uhm, good luck with that.”

He smiles at you. Lifting the container up, he arches his brows, saying, “Thank you, again. It looks good.”

“Yeah, I hope you like it,” You say. Realizing that there’s nothing more left to say, you turn on your heel ready to go. But before that, you look back at him one last time. “Bye.”

Jungkook grins.

“I’ll text you what I think about them.” He says, pointing to the cookies.

“Okay, Anton Ego.”

You both laugh at that, and you enter your apartment with a small smile on your face.

You don’t want to admit it even to yourself, but you might have taken Jungkook’s words about reviewing your baked goods too seriously that you waited for it last night longer than necessary. Even when the night ended and you go to work the next day, which is today, none of his texts come, and you don’t think anything’s coming anytime soon.

You try not to think about it too much because he did say he’s busy with work. You’re sure that’s the case, so you feel slightly bad for him.

Right now, you’re looking for Ms. Seo to get her signature on a document. So you head to the elevator, rushing a bit to get inside the one that’s about to close. It’s a little urgent, so you cannot waste any more time.

As soon as you enter though, you notice who’s in it.

It’s Jungkook and the woman you saw in the elevator two days ago.

You’re starting to think you need to start using the stairs from now on because your elevator trips are getting too ridiculous.

It feels like you’re running on auto-pilot when you greet them both, walking to the side to make space for the other people entering.

You wish you went beside the woman instead and not Jungkook’s side because you then have to try real hard not to look at him.

It proves to be an uneasy task when more people squeeze in as the elevator takes a few stops in between floors. You had to taut all the muscles in your body just to not get into any contact with Jungkook, but even with all the effort, it goes unsuccessful, as you brush his arm when you step back to move a little.

Jungkook looks at you the same time you do.

“I’m sorry.” You utter, low enough to not cause any unnecessary attention.

A few do turn to stare, anyway. And you can’t help but notice the way the woman’s hand moves towards Jungkook’s to hold it as she takes a look at you.

Jungkook, meanwhile, gives you that same professional smile he seems to have reserved for every employee that greets him around the building, warm voice saying, “It’s okay.”

You’re thankful that the next floor is where your stop is.

As you go back to your cubicle, you wonder who the woman is. Again.

There's something about her that feels familiar. She looks familiar. Like you’ve seen her before. You can’t just figure out where exactly.

“__,” Sol calls beside you.

“Huh?”

“You’re not having lunch?” She asks.

“Oh…” Right. It’s currently your break time. “Are you guys going out?” You say, looking at Joonhwi who’s two cubicles away from you.

Sol shakes her head, taking her coat from the back of her chair. “No, just at the cafeteria.”

You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll follow in a few minutes, just need to look over some stuff here,” You point to your computer.

“Okay. Just text me.”

You give Sol a smile and watch as she and Joonhwi head out of the office.

Your gaze falls to the time on your computer.

12:10pm.

Is Jungkook possibly having lunch right now? You remember him buying you one two days ago and feel a little sense of regret about not taking it even though it isn’t your fault and he should’ve told you first to give you a little heads-up.

You never really talked about it. You never really talked for the past three days.

But then again, he seems to be busy.

With a little hope in your heart, though, you pick up your phone and decide to send him a text.

You [12:12pm]: hey do u want to go out for lunch?

Or should you just buy him one like he did for you? It’s not like you’re trying to up him in a kindness competition. It can just be a small, thoughtful gesture from a friend to a friend.

You receive a reply a few seconds after.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: hey __ I’d love to

Your lips curl down when you read the next one that comes in a second.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [12:13pm]: but I have a work meeting in 5mins

Oh. Okay. That tracks.

You [12:14pm]: okii!! That’s totally cool! good luck with work 😊

You stand up from your chair and take out your wallet from your bag, going out of your office and sending a quick text to Sol that you’re coming to the cafeteria.

When you get there, your peripheral vision catches a familiar figure.

You look back, trying to see if it’s someone you know.

Turns out it is. Because it’s Jungkook.

You’ve seen him in the elevator this morning and he wore a grey pair of suit. You’d also recognize his stature anywhere, but just like how it was inside the elevator, he’s with the woman again; long hair down like it was yesterday, this time adorning a suit dress that hugs her figure really well, her stilettos making her legs look longer but somehow Jungkook still stands a little taller.

For the very brief moment that you laid your eyes on them, you saw how Jungkook had his hand placed on the low of her back, how she laughed at something he said, and how they looked good together from your point of view. It seemed like they were on their way somewhere.

You realize that was what Jungkook meant when he said he’s busy.

They say a silver lining comes in every worst situation possible, and you’re more of an optimist rather than a pessimist so usually, you believe in the concept of silver linings even though right now – it looks like it’s going to be winning the jackpot in the lottery or… free education for everybody across the world.

“The contractor estimates it would be a week-long repair.”

“One week?” Is your immediate response, disbelief coloring your tone. “I’m sorry—” You try to fix your tone, salvaging yourself from being seen as outright rude in front of your building manager. “You mean seven whole days?”

The building manager, Mr. Han, nods his head. He looks genuinely apologetic as he delivers the news, for the record.

“That’s… really long.” You say, albeit calmer now. But you still can’t imagine it.

“It’s just an estimate. Contractor said it might be faster than that, but they still need to do a full assessment of your unit tomorrow, together with the water damage restoration company. We’re doing all we can to respond to the situation. We’re also talking to your upstairs neighbor about the stipulation of his negligence.”

You nod along to his words.

Obviously, it’s his job to ensure everything’s taken care of, but still, you’re appreciative of the way they are going about the current situation. You’ve heard horror stories about tenants getting into arguments with their building managers or landlords when their apartments experience accidents.

“Can I ask about relocation?” You ask. You have to read your lease again to make sure.

“Unfortunately, it’s not indicated in your lease policy, but your renter’s insurance should cover it. You can also talk to your landlord about reducing your rent for this month due to the inconvenience.”

You nod, giving him a small smile. “Okay. Thank you.”

The plumber and some of the help the building manager employed to dry up your place from the accidental flood had already left a while ago, and soon, Mr. Han’s figure disappears entirely after a few seconds as you watch him walk down the flight of stairs and away from the building.

You can hear the loud whirring of the air movers placed inside your unit from where you stood on your porch. Your hair’s damp, including some spots on your work clothes from the water that trickled down your ceiling as you panicked earlier to pack some of your belongings in a medium-sized luggage you managed to grab in the timeframe.

It’s the state that Jungkook catches you in when you see him emerging from the stairs, looking like he also just got back from work.

“Hey, what happened?” Jungkook, with his brows furrowed, looks at you with worried eyes, sounding equally concerned.

You sigh. “Hey,” you greet weakly. “My apartment got flooded.”

“What?”

“It’s the upstairs neighbor. He apparently left his tub running while he went to work this afternoon,” You take a sharp breath, getting pissed again at the negligence. So goddamn stupid, really. “He flooded his own place and the water leaked to my ceiling, and when I got back home from work I was welcomed with two inches of water on my floor.”

“What the hell?” Jungkook says in disbelief. You nod at his reaction. That is exactly what you said when you heard the story from the property manager. “Are you okay?” He asks, and you appreciate it.

“Not sure about that.” You answer honestly.

Jungkook furrows his brows. “You called your landlord immediately?”

Letting out a sigh again, you nod and move to sit on your suitcase – the lonesome bag that you’re planning to bring with you to wherever the hell you’re going to stay tonight. You don’t even think you have enough clothes in it.

“My place is a complete wreck. Most of the water’s drained, though, and the building manager brought some help inside and they put air movers inside to dry the place right now.” You blow air to the strand of hair that escapes from your ponytail out of frustration. “It’s a shitshow, I know.”

“Good that they responded fast,” Jungkook comments, but concern is still etched on his face as he asks you, “Have you called your insurance company yet?”

“Yeah, we’re emailing right now.” You tell him, showing your phone. You hate sending email through such a small device but you left your laptop back at the office – which is kind of a good thing, now that you think about it – because it would’ve gotten flooded had you left it in your place.

“Did you document everything?”

Your response comes in a little curt.

“Yes, Jungkook. I did.” The onslaught questions just somehow seemed to prompt irritation in you, and you can’t help but add, “I know everything I have to do. I’m an adult.”

Predictably, you render Jungkook surprised.

“I— I didn’t mean it like that. I apologize.”

When you look up at him, you see his expression softening – and you feel bad for what you just did.

Chill, __. He’s just asking logical questions.

“No, I’m sorry,” You shake your head, feeling a little ashamed for bursting like that. You shouldn’t have talked to him like that, anyway. “I don’t know why I snapped, you’re just asking the important questions.”

Jungkook hesitantly hovers his hand on your shoulder, and the look he gives you seems to be asking for permission to touch you. You don’t even know if that’s his intention, but you give him a nod.

He smiles, tapping your shoulder for a brief second, saying, “It’s okay. You must be really stressed right now.”

“You think I can’t be calm in this situation?” You look at him with a blank expression. Jungkook’s taken aback and you witness the very split second his smile drops form his face, probably thinking he said something wrong. Then you can’t help it, you break. “I’m just fucking with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow as he sees you bursting into a gentle laugh, breaking your serious demeanor.

He shakes his head slowly, seemingly incredulous of the stunt you just pulled.

“You and your jokes…”

“You should’ve seen your face.”

“You got me.” Jungkook chuckles.

“I’m sorry… it’s just me trying to ignore the fact that my apartment literally got flooded and those loud and big ass fans they placed inside are about to tear my ears off.”

You see the way Jungkook’s face winces.

“Where are you staying for the night, then?” He asks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, genuinely not sure about your options. “Probably gonna book a hotel or something.”

Of course you’ve thought about Jimin. He can probably easily help you find a place for the meantime but it’d probably be hard with him not being physically in the country just yet. Sol also crossed your mind, but you remember she has a roommate.

Getting a hotel to temporarily stay at is the most obvious option there is. It would be too much of a hassle, not to mention expensive, but—

“You can stay at mine for the night.”

You think you’re getting around to Jungkook offering you help without you even asking – but it doesn’t mean you still don’t get a little taken aback when he gives it so willingly and so quickly like this.

“No.” You shake your head.

“Seriously.” Jungkook stares at you.

You stare at him right back.

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He raised his brow.

“I can’t think of reasons right now.”

“You don’t need to think at all.”

You squint your eyes at him, he does the same.

Soon enough, Jungkook breaks first and laughs.

“Come on! You’re gonna freeze in here.”

Hesitantly, you say, “… Are you sure?”

“What are you worried about?” He cocks his head to the side, awaiting your response.

Well. There’s a lot to be worried about.

There’s the thing where you always just seem to be caught into some shit and then he catches you right exactly in it. It’s starting to get embarrassing.

But Jungkook just doesn’t really seem to mind it.

“Nothing, really.” Is what you weakly settled for.

“Okay…” He trails off, raising a brow, obviously a bit confused. “Then what’s the big deal? Do you really want to go through the hassle of picking out hotels and booking a room at this hour? You have to go to work tomorrow.”

You visibly wince at the mention of work.

He’s right and you kind of hate it.

“You’re right…” you say after a while.

“You’re staying at mine?” Jungkook asks again, in which you nod your head in confirmation.

You stand up from your suitcase and pull up the handle. Then you look at him sincerely to give him a smile. “Thank you. I think this is like the five hundredth time this kind of thing happened between you and I.”

“Not counting.” Jungkook shrugs. “Have you had dinner yet?”

You nod your head. “I went with a friend— a co-worker.”

Jungkook visibly stills.

“The guy from a few days ago at the restaurant around work?”

You perk up at that, surprised he still recalls that day.

“Yeah, that’s him. Taemu. From the IT dep.”

He nods. You don’t know if he’s interested or not.

You think it’s a bit random that he brought that up, though, but you shake the thoughts away and call his name.

Jungkook looks at you.

“Thank you.” You say, hoping he hears the sincerity in your voice.

He chuckles. “You’re welcome,” Jungkook then gestures to the luggage you’re holding. “Let me.”

Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to say yes before he takes the handle from you and carries the luggage with him to the direction of his place just across from yours.

You consciously try to make your steps lighter as you walk out of the shower box, making your way towards your suitcase to check on the clothes you packed.

When you open it, you thank the heavens that there are underwear – and a lot of them, for the record – but as you rummage around some more, you find that other than your work clothes, you only have nightwear inside. And when you say nightwear, not the comfortable cotton pajama kind but the nightie one – and that basically means the baby blue silky set of tiny camisole and shorts that can pass as a pair of panties.

I can’t possibly wear these, you think to yourself, hastily burying the pieces of clothing in the bottom of your luggage.

It shouldn’t mean anything – those are nightwear after all! But it was already embarrassing to ask Jungkook earlier if you could use his shower and his towel. You can’t come out of the bathroom wearing clothes that Jimin once tagged as “slutty pjs”. Not when you’re in Jungkook’s place.

“__?”

You look over to the door when you hear Jungkook’s voice, a knock following.

“Yes?” You answer.

“Do you have clothes in there?”

At the question, your gaze automatically falls to the suitcase where the thin strap of the camisole peeks out in between some other clothes that are completely useless for the night.

With hesitance, you say, “Uhm… do you possibly have a shirt I can borrow? I promise to clean it and return it to you tomorrow, ASAP.”

You hear him chuckle from the other side. “I brought you some. There’s also a pair of sweatpants but I’m not sure if they’ll fit you.”

It’s hard to not celebrate silently when Jungkook says that – but you might have jumped a little at his words.

When you walk towards the door and open it, you give Jungkook a huge smile as you tell him, “Thanks!”

He stops. And then you stop.

You realize you’re only in your towel – his towel, to be exact.

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks the moment it registers.

Before you can do or say anything, Jungkook moves on quickly and stretches his arm, thrusting the clothes he’s mentioned into your way.

“There.” He says simply, smiling at you.

You take them from his hand, giving him a smile too, albeit a bit awkward.

“T-thanks.”

Jungkook turns on his heel to leave, and you lock the door to the bathroom as soon as he walks away.

You settle his clothes on top of the flat surface of the lavatory, physically shaking your head as you look at yourself in the mirror to shake your thoughts away.

Thoughts of his slightly parted lips when you opened the door while you’re only in a towel.

But it happened in such a split second that you’re not sure if it even happened.

When you take his white shirt, it feels soft to the touch and there’s a scent of fresh laundry that wafts through your nose when you wear it on yourself.

It’s loose on you, the sleeves almost covering your whole arms and the hem stopping mid-thigh. But because of that, it feels comfortable – like the oversized shirts you wear to bed that you, unfortunately, weren’t able to pack with you in the heap of panic.

But the pants show a different case. It’s so big that it drags on the floor as you wear it.

You made do, though; drawing the strings tightly and and knotting them together, pulling up the gartered hems up to your calf.

When you come out of the bathroom, Jungkook welcomes you with nothing but a towel wrapped around his lower half.

“H-hey,” You stammer, eyes meeting his own to avoid looking at his naked torso.

“I was just going in. You done?” He casually says, as if he doesn’t mind being naked in front of you.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m done. Thanks for the clothes.” You say, gesturing across your body.

“Looks good.” Jungkook comments before entering the bathroom.

You think your cheeks just got impossibly hotter.

The sound of water running is heard before you scramble to the living room.

Why was he naked?!

Okay, he wasn’t actually naked naked but still, he had no clothes on. Why did he have no clothes on? You’re trying to erase the image of his torso, the lines that draw an obvious four-pack, his firm-looking chest, and the way the tattoos over his right arm apparently go way above his shoulder. It’s obvious that he goes to the gym and works out from the way those polo sleeves of his always hug his biceps a little too tight – and with a body like that, you completely understand why he wouldn’t mind parading it around.

The AC in his unit is turned on, but it suddenly feels way too hot from where you currently sit on his couch.

Shut up. Ugh. You tell yourself internally.

Completely wanting out of that headspace, you decide to take out your iPad to get in contact with your insurance company to discuss your current situation, and it does a good job of keeping your mind off Jungkook for a while.

You’re so deep in the activity that you don’t even notice a few minutes has already gone by, and with that, you don’t notice Jungkook coming out of the shower.

When you see him in your periphery, he’s now thankfully dressed in a shirt and some basketball shorts. He’s drying his hair as he walks over to your direction in the living room.

You look at him in surprise when you notice the pillow and comforter he has in his hands.

“Sorry. You should’ve called me, I could’ve helped,” you say, standing up from the couch, ready to help him with it, assuming that you’ll be on the couch tonight.

Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows. “I’m taking the couch.”

You stare at him, ready to hear him say he’s kidding or something but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

You shake your head vigorously.

“No, that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous about it?” Jungkook says, putting the pillows on the couch, starting to make it all the while looking at you through the process to engage.

“It’s your place.” You reason.

“And you’re my guest.” He says as a matter of fact.

“But—”

Jungkook cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence.

“__, it’s fine, really. You can take my bed. I insist.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off, sounding more like a whine.

He laughs and then looks at you with a playful smile. “Okay, should we compromise? Like, what, share the bed or the couch?”

You ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the suggestion.

You honestly don’t know why Jungkook says these kinds of things. You know it’s just his usual teasing, but he’s about to confuse you one of these days…

“God, no.” You respond with a shake of your head.

He chuckles. “Oh, is sleeping with me that repulsive to you?”

You push a little at his shoulder and roll your eyes.

When Jungkook’s done fixing the couch, he gestures to the door by the far end of the room. “Come on, I'll take you to the bedroom.”

You both walk towards that direction and as much as you’ve been over his place for more than once now, you’ve actually never seen his room – and for the record, why would you?

But it looks nice. Just like the rest of his apartment’s interior, his room is also almost the same. Kind of bare, but there are some sleek furniture that add character to the whole place.

“Too cold?” Jungkook asks, and you look at him to see him holding the remote of his AC.

“The temp’s fine.”

He hums and puts down the remote.

“Alright, then. Just call me if you need something.” Jungkook says, gesturing to the door. He’s about to leave when you call him again.

“Good night, Jungkook. Thank you for your bed.”

“Good night, __. Uh… sweet dreams?”

You roll your eyes. Jungkook laughs.

When he leaves, you sit on his mattress covered by black duvets and sheets. It’s soft, and you let yourself bounce on the fluffy surface, delighting at the feel.

It’s about the same size as yours, and when you lay on it, you smell that usual scent that Jungkook always emanates. Clean, crisp, a little sweet. Like fresh apples. Or fresh laundry. He just always smells so… clean.

You feel a little sense of strangeness at the different environment you’re in, but the bed is too soft that you feel like you’re almost floating – and maybe it’s because you are tired from work and drained from the whole fiasco at your apartment, but you fall asleep fast and heavy within just a few minutes.

You almost jump from the bed when you open your eyes and see a different type of bedding, only to realize that you’re actually not in your apartment and in Jungkook’s instead.

After processing that, you begin to do a little stretching, finding that you slept quite well. As you do so, your eyes catch the digital clock on the bedside table, and you read 4:30 am.

It’s a bit too early to start getting ready for work, but maybe if you start prepping now, you’ll be ready to go out just as when Jungkook is waking up.

When you stand from the bed, you discover the absence of pants around your waist, the cold air sending goosebumps over your bare legs – and as expected, you see the sweats getting caught in between the heaps of dark sheets on the bed.

You must have taken it off in the middle of the night. It’s why you usually forgo pants when you sleep.

You decide against wearing it again, though, assuming that Jungkook is still sound asleep by now so he can’t possibly see you walking around his place naked from the waist down. Besides, the shirt’s big and almost serves as a dress.

Carrying the pants with you, you silently open the door to his bedroom to tiptoe on your way to the bathroom.

“Hey,”

“Jesus christ!” You clutch your heart at the sudden sound of Jungkook’s voice booming across the unit.

When you look at him, he’s… working out. Apparently.

Jungkook takes out the airpods from his ears and drink from his tumbler.

“What are you tiptoeing for?” He asks, brows furrowed.

From where you stand, you see droplets of sweat on the side of his forehead, his chest heaving from the push-ups you catch him doing a few seconds ago on the mat that he laid on the floor. There are small weights on the side, and Jungkook is still wearing his clothes from last night.

Did he possibly just… wake up and then choose to exercise? Is this his everyday routine?

“I didn’t want to wake you,” you make up an excuse that’s kind of partly true. He slept on the couch in the living room, after all. And from the sala, everything is pretty much visible to the eye as the unit has an open layout. So one single noise could’ve awakened him.

“Too late for that,” Jungkook chuckles. He looks at you longer than a second and you’re just about to get conscious when he asks, “You get ready for work at four?”

You purse your lips into a thin line. “Sort of. I also have to check my place.” Jungkook nods, understanding. “Uh, Jungkook?” He hums to acknowledge you. “Can I use your shower? Again?”

He laughs at the way you smile at him awkwardly. “Sure. Your towel’s just over the rack.”

“Thanks.” You smile at him and go straight to the bathroom.

You make quick work of washing yourself, and the shower, just like last night, isn’t your usual routine because of course, most of your stuff are still over at your place. Though Jungkook is kind enough to lend you some of his unused products – even giving you a spare toothbrush which now sits beside his own on the bathroom sink.

When you finish showering, you wear his shirt and his pants once again. As you go out of the bathroom, the sound of oil popping from the kitchen doesn’t escape your ears.

“I made breakfast.” Jungkook says as you make your way towards the kitchen island. He’s a few steps away, working around the stove, frying up some sausage. He takes some eggs and then turns to you. “How do you like your eggs?”

You’re sure he doesn’t mean anything by that, but then you both laugh at the realization anyway.

“Sunny side up.” You say after a while, seating yourself on one of the high stools. “Can I help you?”

“It’s okay, just sit there.”

You put your elbow on the island as you watch him work. “Wow, do you really treat all your guests like this?” You tease, deciding to poke a joke.

Jungkook laughs as he starts breaking eggs into the frying pan.

“You’re the first one.” He raises a brow your way, lips tilted into a playful smile.

“Awe.” You pretend to curtsy which makes Jungkook laugh.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook serves you a plate of sausage and perfectly-made sunny side up. You say a delighted “thank you!” in which Jungkook returns an adorable smile for.

You thought he was going to eat with you, but he only ate the sausage and began to work on cutting up some bananas while you continued to eat.

“What did they say about your apartment? How long is the repair?” Jungkook asks while he takes out a mixer.

“Week-long,” He visibly winces at your answer. You purse your lips. “I’m trying to look for a place to stay for the remaining days.”

Jungkook furrows his brows. “Lease doesn’t cover relocation?”

“Talked to the building manager and the landlord last night and they said it doesn’t. I also read the policy again myself last night, though, just to be sure. Anyway, landlord’s cutting my rent this month for up to thirty, so that’s something.”

“Okay… how about your stuff?”

As you watch Jungkook during the whole conversation, you realize that he’s apparently making a protein shake, and when he finishes shaking the bottle, he gestures it towards you, silently asking if you want to try it.

You shake your head, also answering his question. “I already filed a claim on it with my insurance company, so they’re handling it for me. They’re probably going to seek reimbursement from my upstairs neighbor’s insurance if he has one,” You shrug. “And I’m also gonna have to ask him to pay for the deductible.”

Jungkook nods, consuming his drink. You watch as he leans back on the kitchen sink, putting his protein shake down and crossing his arms, looking right at you.

“Why don’t you stay here for a while?”

You look right back at him weird.

“You’re not serious.”

“When am I not serious?”

You hold a staring competition after that, but Jungkook’s eyes are way too intense so you break away first.

“I just can’t.” You say, interrupting the silence.

“It’s friend to a friend. I bet you’d do this for me too.” Jungkook shrugs.

He doesn’t understand, though. Staying at his place for the remaining six days would mean that you’d be both living under the same roof together, and while it’s true that you would probably do this for him if he was in your shoes, it’s just not the same.

But you don’t want to get into all that. It’s too complicated to explain, even to yourself.

So you decide to joke a little.

“Probably not.” You tease.

Jungkook chuckles. “Mean.” He comments, shaking his head at you and playfully clicking his tongue.

“I’m joking,” you smile apologetically. “It’s just for six more days, though. The manager told me it might take faster.”

“Where do plan to stay, anyway? A hotel would be really inconvenient. The nearest one around here is too far from work, not to mention it’d be expensive as well.”

“There’s loss of use coverage,” You say, even though you know the stipulation, and your apartment flooding because of your neighbor’s negligence might probably not be in the clauses.

It’s just to reason with Jungkook, but he’s quick to present another point.

“It’s gonna take a long while, no?”

You pout. Sighing, you say, “You’re right.”

“Okay, so why not stay here?” Jungkook asks curiously. “You know I don’t mind. I won’t mind.” He says and it sounds so convincing and genuine.

You decide to deflect a little because you feel like giving in any seconds now.

“You say that but wait until you find that I’m not very likeable as a roommate.”

Jungkook raises a brow. “Shoot. Hit me.”

Pursing your lips into a thin line, you try to think of your bad habits.

“I…” you trail off, but it stretches into seconds way longer than necessary.

Jungkook chuckles. “See, you can’t even list one.”

“I don’t cook.” You point out.

“I already know that.”

You frown. “So we can’t take turns cooking while I stay here.”

Jungkook only shrugs. “There’s take-out.”

“You’re gonna eat take-out for a week?”

“I can cook.” He chuckles.

“Okay… but sometimes, I get super cranky.”

He nods. “I’ll be out of your way, then. You won’t even notice I’m here.”

You sigh, out of reasons now.

“I’ll try to be helpful with you in the kitchen for the next six days. And I’ll also be nice.”

Jungkook’s brows perk up. “You’re saying you want to stay here?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But… I wan to pay you.”

“__, the whole reason why I’m offering is because a hotel is gonna cost you,” Jungkook laughs.

That prompts you to put a frown on your face.

“Fair point. But I’m going to take your couch the entire time, okay? And that’s final.”

It takes a little longer for Jungkook to agree to that. But he nods his head, anyway, saying, “Sure.”

It sounds so non-committal. You think he's going to still try insisting taking the couch.

“Okay.” You say, ignoring that thought, smiling at him. “Thank you.”

“You know you’re always welcome, right?” Jungkook says.

You’re thankful he turns around after he says that to tend to the stuff he used a while ago in the sink, giving you a perfect leeway to avoid his gaze lest he takes notice of the way you can’t help a big smile.

“I’m gonna take a shower. Finish your breakfast.” He says, pointing to your unfinished plate.

You give him a small salute.

Before he goes to the direction of the bathroom, Jungkook turns around to ask. "Do you want to go to work together?" He raises a brow, but then a second after his question, he puts a hand up, effectively stopping you from answering. "You're gonna say no. But I insist. Say yes, I made you breakfast."

You laugh at his squinted eyes.

"I was going to say yes, anyway."

"No, you weren't." Jungkook fires back.

You shoo him away playfully before he finally leave for the shower.

All you can think about is that maybe silver linings are indeed true.

Sharing a space with somebody has always felt… weird.

You had a roommate back in college for the whole four years, and while it wasn’t the worst thing that ever happened to you – it was just an experience that didn’t really strike you as something memorable or fun. Min Heeji was a Bio major who was an extreme introvert, and past the casual hi’s and hello’s, you both just never hit it off.

After moving out of your dorm, you rented around Itaewon. You found the unit through a listing you saw on Facebook – some woman who was finding a roommate to split the rent with. You found out later that the reason why the previous people before you left was because she was quite an interesting lady… let’s just say – she was a person who dabbled on the arts of illegal drug trading. Jimin jokingly told you he wondered about how her weed tasted like. Sometimes, you want to smack him on the head.

You pretty much decided on being against roommates for the entirety of your life after that.

But Jeon Jungkook is thankfully not a total hermit, nor does he sell weed.

It’s been long since you lived with somebody, and being under the same roof as him is different – the good kind of different, to be clear.

He’s somewhat a clean freak so it’s almost embarrassing to do anything in his place because it’s always so spot clean.

One thing that you learned though is that he’s a busy man. You had an idea about a packed schedule and non-existent free time for an executive person like him – but the idea feels more real now that you’ve witnessed it.

On the first day of your stay, after your apartment got flooded, he drove you both to work just like he offered. During the night, though, he seemed to have come home late. You slept at around 10pm and never saw him entering the door, and when you woke up the next day, he’s gone, only a note on the fridge telling you that he’s prepared some breakfast you can heat up to eat.

Nonetheless, you feel into quite an easy routine with him.

After a great deal of insistence from your side, Jungkook is rightfully assigned in his bedroom while you lay on the couch. It’s a bit bigger than the one you have on your own, so there’s space for moving around. Even when you wake up with shitty back pains in the mornings, sleeping on his couch is better than sleeping in your current wreck of an apartment as the contractor is already repairing your place.

As of the third day since the incident, they’ve already changed your ceiling, the flooring coming next. It was starting to look good as per your visit.

That made it clearer to you, though, that you’re indeed staying at Jungkook’s for another four days.

Jungkook was so busy that he even worked on a Saturday – told you that it was a hectic week for his team over a shared dinner that you thought will happen only once during your stay with his packed schedule. On Sunday, you kind of assumed that Jungkook will still be at the office, but he surprised you when he came barging in the bathroom while you were in it.

You had your leg propped on the edge of the bathtub, squeezing the bottle of lotion in your palm and spreading the cream over the skin of your shin, adjusting the towel up your thighs so you can cover your entire leg with the product.

You did so mindlessly, part of your usual after-shower routine, completely unassuming of the sound of the doorknob clicking and Jungkook suddenly barging inside the room with a hamper in his hand.

Frozen in your position, your eyes locked into his own as he stepped a foot forward on the tiled floor. You realized the hamper is his laundry.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here,” Jungkook apologized, and he looked genuinely bashful.

“I thought you were at work.” you said, adjusting the towel on the top of your head.

Jungkook raised a brow, but there’s a smile on his lips. “On a Sunday?”

You narrowed your eyes at him which prompted him to laugh. A beat of silence, and then you noticed Jungkook’s gaze. You felt his eyes to the direction of your raised leg on the porcelain tub – and if your own sight didn’t deceive you, you could’ve sworn he’d made a quick glance-over to the expanse of your bare leg before he snapped right back into looking at your face.

“Anyway, I was just gonna do my laundry,” Jungkook twisted himself away from the bathroom’s door. “I’ll wait for you to finish, though. I’m sorry again for barging in.”

At that, you quickly shook your head and planted both your feet on the tiles, standing upright.

“No, it’s fine. I’m done, anyway. Are you in a hurry? I just need to change into some… clothes.” You said, glancing at the heap of some pajama pants and a t-shirt on the bathroom sink.

“Not in a hurry. You can change here.” Jungkook gave you a small smile.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ll be super quick.”

Your lips curled into an apologetic smile, but Jungkook waved you off.

He took one last look at you before he locked the door – one thing that you forgot to do in the very first place.

You blamed it on your habit of not really being mindful about it since you were used to living alone.

The day after that – one fateful Monday – Jungkook once again was MIA at his own place. You woke around 6 am, and as you got ready for work, you noticed a note on his fridge that he went to work earlier than usual that day, and he’d also be working late so you should lock up at night.

At the company, you did not even catch a single glimpse of him.

You bought some food on your way to his place later that day, thinking that maybe you could share a meal together – nevermind the fact that he had told you he was going to be home late. But you did not expect his “late” would exceed past 11 pm, and since you were also pretty much tired from your own activities for that day, you fell asleep on the couch without making it, lying on the surface with no pillows and comforter over your body.

In your dreams that night, you felt like you were floating.

Somebody has tucked their arms under your knees and neck, taking you off the previous surface you were lying on. The unfamiliar man cradles your body against his, carrying you somewhere and putting you on a much softer place. A mattress. A big, soft, mattress. And you noted that the man smelled of green apples and laundry. An almost familiar scent.

Needless to say, your dream was quite vivid that night.

When you woke up the next morning, you were welcomed with the familiar grey paint of the walls – the white ceiling, and the dark sheets and pillows that surrounded you. A waft of fresh laundry smell. The Iron Man figurine on the top shelf of the cabinet in the corner of the room. The black slippers on the side of the door that are way too big to be yours.

Jungkook.

The strange man in your dreams was Jungkook. And it wasn’t a dream at all.

It was Jeon Jungkook who carried you all the way to his bedroom from the sofa so you could sleep comfortably on it.

When you went out of his room that morning, ready to thank him and tell him he didn’t have to do what he did, feeling bad at the thought of him sleeping on his couch at his own place, Jungkook was nowhere to be found.

But as if it was becoming tradition, there was a note on his fridge that told you: I hope you don’t mind that I brought you to my room. I found you uncomfortable on the couch last night. Didn’t cook us breakfast because I have to go to work early again today, but I’ll have food delivered at around 7. Good morning, __ :)

— Jungkook.

That night, though, Jungkook miraculously came home early.

He arrived an hour after you, just in time as you finished doing the prep for the bibimbap you were planning to eat on your own, assuming Jungkook was going to be late again. When you saw him entering the door, you decided to make the portions of the ingredients bigger, thinking that it was the perfect opportunity to say thank you for the other night.

And you did not forget to say that either.

“Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to…” you trailed off, giving him a sheepish smile across the dining table as you both ate.

Jungkook, with his mouth full of rice – seemingly (thankfully) enjoying the meal you prepared for him – munched on it before he said, “You looked real tired. And uncomfortable, which reminds me, you should sleep in the bedroom as well tonight.”

You shook your head. “It’s fine, Jungkook. Last night was just – uh, I was waiting for you to come home because I didn’t want to just lounge around your living room while you aren’t around, but then I guessed you arrived a little late.”

Out of all the things you’d said, it seemed Jungkook only remembered one thing.

“You were waiting for me to come home?” He said, his hand reaching for the side dish pausing mid-air, eyes trained to you. Curious, his brow piqued in what seemed like genuine intrigue.

You stopped. You went over your words, not realizing those came out of your mouth.

Obviously, you didn’t mean for that to slip out.

So, you shook your head slowly. Hesitantly, you reasoned, “It’s just you’re always in your room first before I fix the couch for bedtime. So.” You shrugged, knowing your explanation didn’t suffice.

Jungkook gave you a nod with small a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry for making you wait, then. It’s just extra busy at the company these days.”

Your brows furrowed in curiosity, “Yeah, I heard about the collaboration with Kang Tech.”

You found out about it at work that day. It’s in the accounts payable you’ve worked on the past few days, and when you asked Joonhwi and Sol about it, they confirmed the recent moves the company is recently making.

You also realized then that the reason why the mystery woman in the elevator was familiar to you was because you’ve seen pictures of her before.

Of course you’d know her. She’s the woman Jimin’s parents are trying to set him up with. The one and only Kang Heesu. She took over as CEO just very recently at Kang Tech.

Apparently, Blue Nexus and Kang Tech are collaborating on a product that will be announced later during the month – which explains her being at the company oftentimes, Jungkook being busy, drowned with work stuff – them working closely together.

Whatever you felt on that day you saw them together – you’d like to dismiss that as just a blip in the system. Your system, to be exact.

It isn’t any of your business whoever gets around with Jungkook. Whether he’s close with Kang Heesu outside work or not (like what you’ve pondered about ever since finding out about the information of their collaboration) – that’s their thing.

“Yeah, the team’s been working overtime because of it.” Jungkook added to your words from earlier.

“So, you’re more tired than I am,” You pointed out, noting the obvious. He went to work at the ass-crack of dawn, went home late, and whenever he was home – all he faced was his laptop.

You even doubt he was getting enough sleep. There were bags under his eyes that weren’t there the past month you first met him – and even though he carried them with a certain grace, you could still see that some of the shine in his eyes was becoming absent.

You were glad you were able to prepare something for him. Did something for him. You didn’t have to – but you did. Because you wanted to be a helpful roommate.

“Does it show?” Jungkook chuckled, leaning back on the chair, a bashful expression on his face.

You shook your head. “Nope. But yeah, you don’t need to give up your bedroom tonight. I’ll be fine here.”

“I actually bought something. Wait a minute,” Jungkook suddenly said. Your brows furrowed when you watched him saunter over the living room and in towards his bedroom. When he came back to the dining area, he was carrying a huge paper bag. You looked at him, visibly confused. Jungkook cleared his throat as he sat back down on his seat. “I was thinking you could use this. It’s a foldable cushion or whatever so you can sleep more comfortably on the couch.”

You gawked at the paper bag, and then at him.

“What?”

“I went to the mall yesterday and the lady told me this is one of their best sellers… I don’t know. Do you want to have a look at it?” Jungkook said, worry seeping in his tone.

“That’s a… cushion? For the couch?”

He nodded.

“Oh.” Was the only thing you could utter. You didn’t really know what to say. “I… this is really thoughtful. You didn’t have to, you know that, right?”

Jungkook shook his head and gave you a small smile.

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You told him sincerely.

“It’s nothing.” He waved you off. “I got that dry-cleaned already, by the way, so you can use it tonight if you really insist on sleeping on the couch.” Jungkook said with a teasing smile.

“That,” you point to the paper bag, “will single-handedly get me to want to live here for another three months.”

Jungkook raised his brow. “Really?”

You chuckled, leaving the conversation up on the air.

When you both finished your meal, you offered to do the dishes yourself, but Jungkook was insistent to do it, saying you’ve already done a lot for the day. You begged to differ, but you relented, anyway.

After you showered and made the couch, geeking internally at how soft the cushion he bought was, you couldn’t sleep right away, your mind finding it hard to focus on the lull of the crickets. So, at around 11 pm, you opened your laptop to pull up an X-Files episode, thinking it could condition you into being sleepy.

You promised yourself you were just going to finish one more episode, but the next episode button was too tempting and you found yourself binging the show into the wee hours of the night.

“__?” A voice coming from the far end of the room called, followed by the clicking sound of the lights turning on. With that, you found Jungkook standing on his door with his eyes half-lidded, hands rubbing his chest, seemingly having just woken up from his sleep.

“Jungkook,” you acknowledged him, straying your attention from your show. Jungkook started to trot towards the direction of the kitchen, and your eyes followed him as he stopped in front of his fridge, taking some water out and pouring it into a glass.

After he drank it, he looked at you to ask, “Can’t sleep?” You nodded your head. He made his way towards the couch, pointing at it. “Would you mind?”

“No, do you want to?” You adjusted the duvet you put all over your back to make room for him, and Jungkook placed himself beside you, peering over the screen on your laptop.

“What are you watching?” He asked, voice a little groggy.

“The X-Files. You know the show?”

“Heard about it a few times. Never gotten around to watch it, though,” Jungkook said, leaning on the back of the couch, eyes still glued to your laptop.

You smiled. “Maybe you can start it now.”

“What’s it about?”

“Uh… aliens,” you started off, feeling a little silly about it. Gauging his reaction, you waited for him to give you a judgmental look but he seemed to be intrigued when he looked at you, asking for more details. You perked up that, feeling suddenly excited. “Okay, so, the guy here – his name’s Mulder. He’s an FBI agent who’s tasked on cases that have, you know, unexplainable nature. Basically, he believes in aliens, all that ET stuff,” you explained. Right on time, Gillian Anderson appears on frame. Pointing at her, you looked at Jungkook as you introduced her to him, “And the woman – she’s so pretty – that’s Scully. She’s a skeptic. She’s an FBI agent who’s also a scientist and was assigned to be with him to debunk his work.”

“So, they investigate cases together?” Jungkook added.

You nodded your head. “Yeah, and it’s different for each episode. There’s the alien storyline which is like, the main plot of the show, but there’s the fun filler episodes. Monster of the week, they call it. I’m rewatching one of those right now ‘cause they’re fun and don’t have a backstory.”

“It sounds good,” Jungkook looked impressed, training his eyes back on the show.

You weren’t sure if he was just trying to make a conversation, but he seemed genuinely interested as you both watched the show, which tickled your excitement more. You’ve tried to get Jimin into it but he wasn’t really an avid fan of watching long shows, so you’ve given up on trying to convince him to be as obsessive of the show as you.

“Do they kiss?” Jungkook suddenly asked mid-episode, brows furrowed as he watched Mulder wiped something off the side of Scully’s lips. It’s the episode when Scully just got back from being abducted.

Amused, you looked at him and let out a chuckle. Jungkook turned to look at you, confused at the reaction.

“Hm?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s just funny. So, there’s a thing in this show, right? Scully and Mulder are not supposed to be a couple, but they act like one.”

Jungkook let out a seemingly enlightened, “Ah.” Then he looked at your screen again, “I’m watching it right now out of context and I’m assuming they’re a couple.”

“Right? They have such insane chemistry. It’s why I love this show so much.”

“Wait. They never get together? Or kiss, romantically?” Jungkook asked curiously.

“They kiss on the seventh season. We’re on the second one.”

“Wow,” He breathed, genuinely surprised. “That’s a long wait.”

“I know,” you chuckled.

You both sat beside each other as the episode finished. Jungkook would have some questions, and you happily answered each one. It was also fun to share some lore about the show – and you didn’t know if you were coming off too geeky about it – you were just unbelievably excited that he seemed to genuinely like it.

Time passed without you both noticing, and it was 2:23 am when you became hesitant on clicking the next episode button.

“Do you still want to watch another one or…” You trailed off, eyes glued to the screen, waiting to hear Jungkook’s response. But then a few seconds passed, and you didn’t receive one. Turning your head to the side, your eyes widened when you see the state Jungkook was in.

He was leaning far back on the couch with his head resting on the backrest, arms crossed over his chest, lips slightly parted with his eyes shut closed. You could see his chest rising and falling from the way he breathed in and out of sleep, looking quite peaceful regardless of his seemingly uncomfortable position.

You shut your mouth and closed your laptop quietly, trying to be careful with your movements so as to not disturb him and accidentally wake him up. Stretching your back to lean down, your breath hitched as you tried to set the laptop down on the coffee table, not daring to graze any part of Jungkook’s body, especially when his thigh was so closed to your own.

When you successfully put away the device, you went back to sitting beside him, contemplating on your next move.

You ended up staring at him, noting the way his biceps are bulging out of the sleeves of his white shirt with a thin material from their crossed position. Your eyes trailed down to the veins on his forearms, and naturally, you focused in on the one with the swirls of ink around it. It was a body of art on the first look – but looking at it at that moment – close up and free, you took time to identify the drawings on his skin.

There was that snake that trailed down close to his hand, the skeletal rock n’ roll hand, and the script that says “rather be dead than cool”. It was a shame that you couldn’t see from your current view the flower tattoo you were always curious about, nevertheless, the entirety of his inked arm was just… breathtaking, to say the least.

You wanted to ask him what they meant – or if they even meant something. You knew by now he only got them in college – when he moved to the US – and you were just curious about how he decided to get them; about the backstory, anything… Would love to trace down your fingers on his skin as he tells you the exact moment.

And then you realized what you were doing and suddenly looked away.

You felt like a creep. What were you doing, staring at him while he was unaware, unconscious in his sleep? It was not right, and you were supposed to scoot over to the edge to give him plenty of space all for himself.

But as you looked at him again, your eyes stopped at his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at it.

Again.

His nose was something you weirdly have a liking to, and there’s a scar on his cheek that once again bubbled up another layer of curiosity within you.

“Stop it.” You mumbled out loud – not loud enough for Jungkook to hear – but just enough to snap yourself out of the trance you were in.

It was stupid. So stupid. To stare at a sleeping man and have those thoughts inside your head. Jungkook would never do anything like this to you, and at that sentiment, you stood up from the couch to get away.

You caught a sight of the duvet that you used a while ago. As you looked at Jungkook, he seemed to be in dire need of one, so you made quiet steps to put it over him, stopping your breathing in case you did it too loud and he wakes up.

As you carefully laid out the blanket on top of his body, Jungkook stirred, and your breath hitched as you stopped on your tracks.

He mumbled something incoherent, his neck craning to lay on his cheek. Regardless, he stayed on his position, arms still crossed, seemingly going back to his deep sleep instantly.

You stepped out in front of him, letting out a breath of relief.

Standing there for a few seconds, you wondered about where you were going to stay. Jungkook was on the couch and unlike him – you could not carry him to his room without him noticing.

Looking at the direction of said room, you thought about staying there for the night, but decide against it. You didn’t get his permission to do so, it’d be rude—

But the couch is only one, though. And you could feel a yawn ready to come out of your own mouth, sleep lurking at the back of your head.

You could try to wake Jungkook up to tell him to go to his room so he could sleep more comfortably, but you couldn’t do it. The past few days, he had been so busy with work and seemed like he wasn’t getting enough rest. What if you woke him up and he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore? That would just make you feel bad.

Getting the pillow strewn over the edge, you walked towards the direction and fixed it against the arm rest, sitting on the spot and making yourself comfortable on it. Of course, it wasn’t – you were craning your neck too far to the side to try to lay your head, and your body was sprawled in a weird sitting and lying position.

It was fine, though. Jungkook was about two feet away from you, and you felt like you could sleep in the state.

But it was a few long minutes before it completely overtook you.

There’s a feeling of a hard plane against your back when you feel yourself waking up.

You’re in a curled position, hands tucked under your cheeks. As much as you’re starting to slowly feel conscious, you’re still not a hundred percent aware of your surroundings just yet. It’s why you ignore the blow of hot air against the crook of your neck.

When you blearily open your eyes, you’re welcomed with the sight of the back of the grey couch you’ve accustomed yourself with over the past few days. The white foldable cushion you’re lying on. The familiar scent of Jungkook’s apartment.

It’s another usual morning, as far as you’re concerned.

So, you stretch an arm up as well as your leg, groggily mumbling something as you go back to closing your eyes again to hopefully sneak in a few more minutes of sleep.

“Hmm…”

At the sudden sound, your eyes snap open, surprised at the embodied voice that came out somewhere that’s definitely not from your own mouth. It was close, though – something close to your neck; you felt it so – and at that realization, your eyes trail down to your waist, and your breath catches in your throat when you see an arm wrapped around it.

Under your head is another arm that adorns a familiar sleeve tattoo.

When you crane your neck to look behind you, you’re welcomed by Jungkook’s locks of black and messy hair, his face apparently buried in the crook of your neck.

He must’ve felt you move because he stirs in his position, mumbling something, arm tightening around you.

You feel your heart starting to beat faster than usual as you feel the tips of Jungkook’s fingers resting on the bare skin of your stomach due to your camisole riding up, and your eyes continue to widen when you saw that the shirt he’s worn last night is now lying haphazardly across the coffee table where your laptop is.

When Jungkook pushes himself against you closer, that’s when you feel something hard against the cleft of your ass.

“Oh my god!”

“What the fuck!”

“I’m so sorry!” You immediately say, retreating your hands that just pushed him off the couch once everything registered in your head.

You just… slept with each other! You woke up with Jungkook spooning you! The hard plane against your back that you felt earlier was his chest and the hot air blowing in your ear was his breath! You both fell asleep together on the couch!

Jungkook – the poor man – visibly winces as he cradles the back of his head, adjusting himself on the floor after you forcefully yeeted him off the couch.

He didn’t expect that, of course he didn’t! He still looks like he’s half asleep when you kneel on the floor in front of him, grabbing his shoulders and craning your neck to check if you’ve done damage to his head.

“What the hell was that for?” Jungkook asks, still lost about what just happened.

You grimace as you hesitantly put your palm over the back of his head and rub to soothe the pain you’ve caused him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. I was just surprised and shocked when I–”

You stopped speaking when you notice that Jungkook is looking up at you, eyes half-lidded from sleep. Stopping your ministration on the back of his head, you retreat your hands to yourself and look away.

“We slept together.”

“What?” Jungkook asks, his tone incredulous, but more like confused. When you train your eyes to him again, you see him looking down on his body and then yours.

Your cheeks heat up when you realize what you just said.

“Oh my god, no! Not slept slept with each other! I mean, we slept together. Like, literally.” You say, looking at him in panic.

Jungkook furrows his brows. And then after a beat of silence, he lets out a low, “Oh.”

“Oh?” You parrot back.

“Yeah, oh,” He says drily. Jungkook rubs his eyes with his fists and then looks at you again. “I’m sorry, I feel disoriented. I just woke up.”

You wince at that, feeling bad for pushing him again.

It was just a reflex thing, okay! Especially when you felt that certain something in your ass.

When Jungkook stands up from the floor, you notice the strings of his grey shorts getting undone, and your eyes betray you as they pay a look at the noticeable bulge on his crotch.

Jesus H. Fucking Christ.

You stand up quickly, following after him, feeling your heart hammer in your chest.

Okay, boo-fucking-hoo! Men get boners in the mornings. What’s the big deal about it?

“What time is it?” Jungkook asks, brushing his hair back, and you have to physically look away and try to busy yourself by looking for your phone so you can ignore his naked chest on display and his abs and stupid big arms.

You spot your phone nearby and turn it on.

“Six thirty.”

“Shit.” Jungkook hisses.

You’ve never heard him let out so many curses before.

“What? It’s still early.” you say, in case he was referring to work.

Jungkook shakes his head. “Yeah, no. I was supposed to get ready at five am sharp. Need to go there early.”

“Oh.”

He groans, and the sound makes your stomach feel a little weird.

“I have to go shower,” Jungkook says, picking up his shirt from the coffee table. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

“Huh?” You realize what he’s talking about and is then quick to shake your head. “No, not your fault. I, uh, you fell asleep on the couch last night and I didn’t want to wake you.”

He nods, more like to himself. “How did we…?” Jungkook points between you, eyeing the couch.

“I didn’t want to use your bed without your permission, so I slept on the couch as well,” But then you decide to add, “But I didn’t sleep beside you, I was like –” you point to the edge of the couch, “there.”

“Ah,” Jungkook follows your eyes, and then nods. “Okay.”

“Yeah.” you purse your lips into a thin line. “Sorry about that. I should’ve just woken you up, huh?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He dismisses you with a wave of his hand. “Well, is it okay if I use the shower first?”

“Of course.”

Jungkook smiles before he saunters towards the bathroom. You try not to stare at the hard lines of his retreating back, taping down to his narrow waist.

You failed to do that, obviously.

Sighing out loud when you’re sure he can’t hear you, you busy yourself in the kitchen to make some toast.

After work, you paid a quick visit to your apartment to see how it’s going, since you’re supposed to be able to come back tomorrow.

Your building manager told you that you can pretty much move back already, but there’s no water yet, so you will still have to stay at Jungkook’s place for the last time. At least for another night.

Speaking of him, when you step out on your porch, you see him in front of his own unit, back turned to you, opening his door.

“Hey,” you call. Jungkook turns on his heel, and he smiles as he sees you.

“Hey,” He greets, his hand pausing on the door. Jungkook gives you his undivided attention as he looks at you. “Your apartment’s fine now?”

You nod happily, grinning widely. “Yeah. But I have no water yet. They’re turning it on tomorrow.” You saunter towards his direction and stop beside him. Pointing to the paper bags in his hands, you ask, “What’s that?”

Jungkook lifts them up. “Soju and Midday Miso take-out.” Then, hesitantly, he looks at you curiously. “Do you drink?”

That prompts you to laugh.

“Of course. Are you drinking tonight?”

He nods his head. “Yeah. I was gonna ask you to drink with me… but if you’re not up for it, I’ll just be in my room.”

You cock your head to the side.

“What’s the occasion?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Nothing. Just thought I could loosen up.”

You nod in understanding.

You think about asking him how work’s been, but decide against it, not wanting to pry in case he doesn’t want to talk about any of it.

As you both enter his apartment, it’s almost so domesticated how you take off your shoes and put them in the rack in the threshold. Jungkook wears his black sliders while you wear your baby blue ones. Following him into the living room, it’s almost wild to see yourself being so familiar with his place already.

“Where can we watch The X-Files?” Jungkook asks suddenly after he set the bags on the table, going for the remote and turning on the TV.

You look at him in surprise, not expecting him to ask that.

You answer nonetheless, and Jungkook clicks on the show once it shows up on the screen.

“Do you really want to start with the pilot episode?” You chuckle when he hovers over it.

Jungkook grins. “I enjoyed it last night. Maybe this could be a new favorite.”

“Woah,” you breathed, shaking your head. “Do you know how much I have to convince Jimin to watch this show?”

“Jimin doesn’t like shows. I wanted him to watch Suits but he said he couldn’t stand Harvey Specter – which is fair.”

“Oh my god, that’s also what he told me when I recommended Suits!” You say. You narrow your eyes at him, excited about the information. “So… you like Suits?”

Jungkook nods. “Sort of like a guilty pleasure? I used to watch it a lot in college. My roommate studied law and started telling me about how inaccurate it was, but it’s fun regardless,” He says with a shrug. “Sue me.”

“I know, right! People always wanna be smart about procedural dramas, but I think it’s just camp they can’t comprehend,” You shake your head, feeling a certain high bubble inside you. You lean your elbows on the coffee table. “Okay, okay, thoughts on Jessica Pearson?”

Jungkook grins. “A dream.”

You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m so glad you have the correct opinion.”

Jungkook laughs at that, and you begin to eat the take-out he bought, The X-Files playing on the big screen before you.

“You went home early today,” you comment as you take the shot glass he offers you.

A few minutes has passed already and you’re beginning to open the bottles of soju, Midday Miso take-out boxes all finished.

“Managed to finish early tonight. That’s probably why I wanted to drink,” Jungkook says, tipping his head back to drink from his own bottle. “Also, it’s your last day here.”

You nod. With a teasing smile, you jab, “Are you going to miss me?”

Jungkook looks at you briefly.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” You ask incredulously, feigning hurt.

He chuckles. “I liked your little dance in the kitchen last Sunday.”

Your lips part, recalling that time when you reheated some pizza during the night. As far as you were concerned, Jungkook was in his bedroom at that time!

“You saw that?” You say, embarrassed.

Jungkook must’ve noticed, because he chuckles and begins to sound comforting when he says, “Some part of it, yeah. Megan Thee Stallion would love to perform with you, I think.”

“Oh my god, no,” You giggle, covering your face with your hands because if he caught you during that part, it means he saw you trying to throw it back. “Yeah, I think I’m packing my things right now.”

Jungkook laughs, and his eyes crinkle as he does so, overjoyed at your tactics.

“I thought you wanted to drink with me?”

You squint your eyes. “Just because I feel sorry for pushing you off the couch this morning.”

He shakes his head, still chuckling. “Yeah, that hurt. I think I have a bump on my head right now.”

You stop, eyes widening. “Seriously?”

Jungkook presses his lips together and nods. You grow concerned, ready to lean over the table to check the back of his head, but as you do so, Jungkook makes a sound of stifling his laugh and you realize he’s fucking with you.

“That’s so mean.” you say, going back to your side and pouting at him.

“Not meaner than you pushing me off the couch.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. You just surprised me, 's all!”

Jungkook laughs and nods his head. “I know, I know. I’m sorry about that. I have a habit of being able to sleep anywhere.”

You scrunch your face. “Me too.”

And then a beat of silence.

Jungkook tips his head back for another sip of his alcohol. When he looks at you again, a gentle smile is playing on his lips.

“I had a good night sleep, though. Did you?”

He looks at you with something in his eyes – something soft and gentle – his gaze making the hair on your nape stand and your cheeks burn.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The night continues to envelope your surroundings and as time passes by, the empty bottles of soju multiply.

You’ve always had a high tolerance for alcohol – and soju, in particular, is generally not too strong for you personally. With one bottle in, you don’t feel hammered just yet. There’s a daze at the back of your head that you’re starting to feel, though. One and a half is your limit, sometimes two – you’ve had that down since college.

Jungkook seems to share the same trait, it seems like. You noticed he’s on his second one, and even though his cheeks are starting to get painted red, he still speaks with you like he’s a hundred percent conscious and not like alcohol’s hit his system already.

“It’s so hot,” you say, popping open the first two buttons of your shirt. Jungkook’s coat has long been disposed on the couch, and his ties are loosened, with the long sleeves of his dress shirt pushed to his elbow, showing his tattoos.

“Should I adjust the AC?” Jungkook asks, looking at you as you gather your hair up in a ponytail.

You manage to secure it even without a tie and answer him, “No, it’s fine.”

When you feel like you can breathe again, you look at Jungkook. As you think about what to say next, you giggle lightly.

“Let’s have some fun with these,” You point to the empty bottle of soju. Jungkook quirks his brow, which prompts you to continue. “Let’s play spin the bottle. When it points at you, you have to answer some questions. If you don’t want to, then you’ll have to drink.”

Jungkook snorts. “Truth or dare? Really?”

You roll your eyes. “No, not truth or dare. Just truth because I’m sophisticated like that. Besides, are you going to entertain me if I dare you to wear a rainbow suit for work tomorrow?”

“This is your idea of fun?” Jungkook says, teasing you. Playful with a boyish grin.

You shrug. “I mean, it’s quite fun, actually. But I know about how thirty-year-olds get. If it’s past your bedtime, then…” you glance at the door to his bedroom.

Jungkook bursts out in laughter.

“You like making it sound like I’m sixty, don’t you?”

“Are you?” You pout.

Jungkook chuckles, although relenting to your game proposition.

“Alright…”

You do a little shoulder dance which makes Jungkook shake his head. As you spin the bottle, it stops and points at him. You let out a little sound of enthusiasm.

“Okay. What’s that mean?” You ask. Jungkook looks confused as he tries to see what you’re looking at. His arm. “That flower tattoo – or if it even has a meaning.”

“Oh,” Jungkook utters, realizing. He lifts up his right arm and twists it so that the flower tattoo is within both your sight. There, you see a full view of the flower drawing tattooed in orange ink. You find yourself staring at it as Jungkook starts to speak, “It’s a tiger lily. My birth flower. It means…” You can see Jungkook hesitate for a little while, and you’re just about to take back your question when he continues to say, “It means please love me.”

“Wow.” You gasp. “That’s… so pretty.”

Jungkook caresses his forearm, staring quite lovingly at the art. “I know. My tattoo artist did a really good job.”

He takes it to himself to spin the bottle again, and this time, it points at you.

“Well… do you have a tattoo?” Jungkook asks, and it’s obvious he meant to tease.

You nod your head. His playful smile drops.

“Are you serious?”

You raise your brow at him. “Sorry. Only one question gets entertained.”

He clicks his tongue playfully but then begins to spin the bottle one more time. When it points at you again, he gives you a smirk.

“Can I see your tattoo if you’re saying you have one?”

You scrunch your face, cocking your head to the side.

“Hm. I don’t think so. It’s under my boob. So.”

Jungkook stills, and you watch as his eyes trail down from your face down to your collar – although he did it quite subtly.

“Oh.”

You grin. “Yeah, “oh”,” you chuckle. When he shakes his head, you tell him, “What?” You look at him weird, regardless of the smile on your lips. He stares right back at you, and you narrow your eyes at him. “Ohh, I see. You think I’m lying.”

“No, I’m not,” he scoffs. “I just thought…”

“You just thought what?”

“I just thought you wouldn’t have one. Or if you did, it’d be a like a small thing on the leg or something. I don’t know.” He shrugs, still smiling.

You grin. “Interesting insight.”

“Nevermind that.” Jungkook rolls his eyes, spinning the bottle again.

When the rotation stills at his direction, you clap a little and put your elbows on the coffee table.

Your next question sounds stupid in your head, but you let it out anyway.

“What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

“Oh, are we doing that?” Jungkook says, sounding intrigued. “Are you going to ask me about my first kiss next?”

You snort. “This feels so high school. But answer my question.”

“Yes, ma’am,” He playfully gives you a salute. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Okay, well, I like women who are smart and… funny,” Jungkook says, and when he looks at you, you move back a little. With a soft smile, he adds, “And pretty.”

You break the eye contact. Raising your brow, you nod your head. “Pretty women. Like Kang Heesu, right?”

Jungkook looks surprised when he hears the name.

“How do you know her?”

“How can I not? Jimin’s mother has been trying to set him up with her for months now.” You shrug.

Jungkook chuckles, as if he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

“Yeah. You’re right – not about the part that she’s my ideal type, though.”

You can’t help but let out a scoff.

“That’s such a cop-out answer, Jungkook.”

He looks at you incredulously, chuckling as he says, “What? It’s not a cop-out, it’s the truth.”

“You’re awfully close with her. I heard from my coworkers you’re both dating.” You raise a brow at him.

It’s true. Words are starting to get around the office that Jungkook and Heesu are more than just collaborators.

Of course, you know to ignore that. Not because you want to be in denial or anything – but because you just don’t think it is actually true.

But maybe poking fun at it will get you the confirmation. Or whatever. It doesn’t matter.

Jungkook laughs at your previous words, though, as if you just told him a big joke.

“God, no,” he shakes his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. “They’re really saying that?” You nod your head, your lips pressed into a thin line. “I ought to make everybody know we’re just working together. You know about the project the company has in collaboration with Kang Tech, right?”

“Yeah.”

“There you go,” Jungkook chuckles. “I’m not dating Kang Heesu.”

The words feel a bit different in your ears. Paired with the way he looked at you as he said it, he sounded as though he was… almost assuring you.

But of what?

You shake off the idea in your head.

“Okay. Next one.” you interrupt the silence to change the subject. You curse in your head when the bottle stops at you.

“Your turn. What’s your ideal type?” Jungkook asks as if his tongue is just itching to ask you that. You know he’s just excited to get back at you.

You think about it for a moment, though, and you find you don’t really know what to say.

It’s not a thought you ponder over a lot. The guys that you’ve been with were so… different from each other.

“I—I’m not sure,” you shake your head, genuine.

Jungkook points at the shot glass. “New rule. I’ll count to ten and if you don’t answer, you drink.”

You glare at him; he just gives you a grin.

“I really don’t know! I mean, my past relationships are so different from each other,” you say, pouting. “But— okay. I guess I like guys who are… confident,” You look at Jungkook and then let your mind float. “And I guess I also like somebody who’s…” You watch as he leans in closer to wait for your next words. Your feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you finish up with, “Attentive. I like good listeners. Yeah.”

“Ah,” Jungkook nods. And then, he adds, “Is Shin Taemu from the IT department a good listener, then?”

Your brows furrow. “Shin Taemu?” He nods. That earns a laugh from you. “No, we’re friends.”

“Friends?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, we – uh – did date. Didn’t work out. So. We’re only friends now.”

“Date, as in, a long relationship?” His eyes are so full of genuine curiosity that you cower away from them.

You shake your head at his question. “No, no – not long relationship, it wasn’t like that. I meant date as in – dinner date. Once.” You look at the shot glass and down it because of the sudden nerves that enter you. “We’re doing this game wrong.”

Jungkoon chuckles at the way you drink another glass. He mirrors your action, though, and ask, “How so? We’re questioning each other.”

“Yeah, but it’s too many questions!” You complain, jutting your lips into a pout.

“You said you only wanted truth, so there goes your questions,” Jungkook says. You roll your eyes, which makes him laugh. “Okay, just so I can amuse you, I’ll do a dare if it points at me, and you’ll do one if it stops at you. Deal?”

When you nod, Jungkook spins the bottle. He did it quite forcefully that the bottle takes a longer time to stop. You both watch keenly as it begins to slow down. Nervous, you pray it doesn’t stop at you, and you let out a sigh of relief when it finally points to Jungkook.

Jungkook shakes his head when you let out a contained, “Yes!”

“I dare you to…” you trail off, watching as he looks at you curiously. “Let me pluck your brows.”

“What?” Jungkook asks incredulously.

“A promise is a promise.” You remind him.

“Like all of them?”

“What? Of course no!” You chuckle, seeing the genuine panic in his eyes.

“Oh.”

“You silly,” You say, laughing at him. “Not right now, though. I actually feel like I’m about to pass out. Oh my god, I have to tend to a hung-over tomorrow.” You let your face fall into your hands and stifle a groan.

“I’ll cook us some porridge or something, don’t worry.” Jungkook says. Curiously, he asks, “Why do you want to pluck my brows?”

You stare at him, and then focus your eyes onto his brows.

Pouting, you let your shoulders deflate as you sigh. “They’re so thick.”

“What?” Jungkook lets out, laughing incredulously. “I’m so confused.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Okay… well, would you let me pluck your brows?”

You try to think about it.

“No,” you shake your head. You add, “Unless you’re flirting with me.”

Jungkook stops. And then raises a brow. “Unless I’m flirting with you…”

You snap your eyes to look at him. Mirroring his brow, you ask, “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” Jungkook looks at you, lips tilted into a barely-there smirk that suddenly makes your cheeks burn with heat. “Do you like it?”

It takes you a while to answer, processing his words. You don’t know if he’s joking or what. Is this just his usual teasing? It feels different this time.

But why are you denying it again to yourself, though? You may be stupid sometimes, but you know his teasing gets a little… borderline flirty. You’re scared to ask him about it outright, though – afraid to be faced with the possible truth that it’s just your head playing mind-tricks for you; that Jungkook, with his teasing, is not flirty at all and you’re just flattering yourself to think about it that way.

But right now, his question feels real.

If he is flirting with you… do you like it?

You pour a drink into the shotglass and down it quickly. You feel your vision starting to get a little hazy as you put it down the table.

Jungkook realizes what you just did, and then throw his head back to laugh.

“Now, that was a cop-out.” He says, pointing to the trick that you just did.

You give him a smirk. “No rules about not answering except down a drink.”

Jungkook chuckles. “Smart girl.”

He watches as you stand up, but when you trip over the carpet, he’s quick to follow and go over to your direction to hold your wrist, his arm going around your waist to guide you to stand upright.

“You okay?” He asks. When you look up, your faces are just a hair's breadth away.

“Hm.” You hum, blinking your eyes up at him. You find it’s because your lids are starting to get heavy.

“Be careful.” Jungkook says, but he doesn’t let go of your waist, nor your wrist.

You stand there in the middle of the living room with that position, and weirdly enough, you feel like you’re both glued on it.

You can’t move – or don’t want to. You wish you want to. But you don’t, and it’s why you let Jungkook’s fingers trail softly to your waist.

“You look real sleepy,” he comments – whispers, more like, his bated breath hitting your skin.

“I am a bit dazy.” You say, finding yourself indulging in his touch.

Somehow, Jungkook never makes a move to get away even when you’re already steady on both feet. You feel that fading away so soon though, your knees starting to feel like they’re about to buckle at the way Jungkook’s eyes bore deep into your own. You feel a sort of heightened sense within your body, his hand on your back making something in you tingle.

It’s so intimate – the position. Jungkook looms over you with his much bigger frame and with his support on your back, you can just let yourself fall back.

Can you, though? Are you sure he’s going to catch you?

“You do look a little dazy,” Jungkook comments, but his eyes have traveled down to your face, and you can see them stop at your lips.

That makes them part.

You see Jungkook’s adam’s apple bobbing at the action.

“I do feel dazy,” you say, parroting back his words. Maybe they’re coming off slurred. You don’t know. You find you don’t care.

Jungkook’s lips tilt into a gentle smile. Soft like his demeanor. Soft like his arm that somehow found a way to tighten its hold around you even though you don’t need it. But it’s Jungkook though, and as much as you deny it even to yourself – you do like his touch.

“Yeah, you told me so.” His voice becomes an octave lower. His hands start to rub your clothed waist, and the ministrations of his thumb distract you a bit.

You roam your eyes around his face – noting the scar on his cheek which story you want to know so bad. When you trail you eyes down to his lips, you see the mole under it. You don’t think you were being subtle at all – it’s quite obvious that you’re just staring.

And you know Jungkook notices.

“Jungkook,�� you breathed out, calling him about nothing in particular.

His only response is a small, gentle hum.

A beat of silence, and you feel Jungkook’s face leaning closer to yours.

You don’t make a move away from him, just let your legs stay where they are, letting Jungkook slowly pull you to him. You can tell his movements are slower than usual – like he’s testing the waters, searching for something in your eyes, quietly asking if it’s okay – if what he’s about to do is okay.

It makes your heart hammer against your chest – his breathing becoming more audible in your own ears. His mouth reeks of the soju you both drank earlier, but you’ve always liked the smell of it, especially when it comes with a man as breathtaking as him.

You feel the tip of his nose touching yours, your chest pressing against his own, his hand travelling from your waist to the back of your head.

When Jungkook leans down to close the gap, you swerve your face just in time to have his lips press against your hair instead.

“I’m sleepy.” You say quietly, a nervous lilt to your voice. You duck your head a little lower, laying your face on his chest and bury it with his scent.

You can feel Jungkook freeze in his position, taken aback by the sudden turn of events. You hope he doesn’t feel the way your heart goes abnormal in your chest with such proximity – but right now, all you want to do is hide. Hide your face away from him because if he sees you, he’ll know exactly what you’re thinking.

He’ll know exactly the effect he has on you.

It takes a few seconds of silence before Jungkook comes back to you.

“Hm,” He hums, and you feel his hand letting go of your wrist to wrap around your waist, squeezing for a brief moment. Jungkook’s other hand cradles your head to his chest, swiping his hand against your hair in a repeated manner, and with the way he rests his chin on the crown of your head, you feel comfort in the whole thing. “We should sleep.”

“Yeah…” you trail off, and you can just feel your lids getting heavier at the remark.

“Yeah?”

“Hm.”

“I’ll take the couch. Do you want to shower first?” You shake your head against his chest. You feel it vibrating when he chuckles. “Okay.”

“My body feels like jelly.” You say, and you feel that to be actually true.

“Is that code for “carry me to your bed, Jungkook”?”

You’re thankful your face is buried in his chest as you smile widely.

“Do you want it to be?”

“I don’t mind.”

You nod. “Good. I think I’ll get alcohol poisoning tomorrow.”

You feel Jungkook lifting his chin off your head as he sounds scold-y when he says, “Don’t joke like that.”

You giggle against his chest.

“Carry me before I pass out.”

Jungkook snorts. “Ohh. Bossy.”

“It’s my last day here. I deserve some slack.” You grumble.

“Fine.”

TAGLIST: @mortal-body-timelesssoul @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lachimolalajeon @miniesjams32 @parkinglot-nights @peterstarkchrishiddleston @aznstoner @chuberry22 @tae-hibiscus @jungkooksmytype

note: pls check your account settings if you are enabling ur profile to be tagged.

#fic: nb #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader

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sparklysung · 5 days ago

Text

✨SHARING IS CARING - l.d.h.✨

pairing – lee donghyuck x female!reader

genre – smut, fluffish | non-idol!au, roommates!au, friends (?) to lovers!au

warnings – oral (m. and f. receiving), face sitting, cum eating, squirting, exhibitionism (reader touches hyuck while he's on a call with his friends), unprotected sex (pls don't), lots of cursing, mentions of hyuck masturbating to the thought of reader), a little possessiveness at the end, panty thief!hyuck.

word count – 5.733 words

summary – where your roommate from hell is also hot as hell, and both of you enjoy annoying the hell out of each other.

note – so... i've been working –on and off but still– on this for about maybe 2 years? i just recently got inspiration to finish it lol any feedback would be greatly appreciated, just pls be kind <3 anyway, i hope you guys enjoy this!

“hey, y/n. have you seen my-.”

“how fucking rude of you to just walk in unannounced. what if i was naked or something? learn how to knock, you airhead.”

your face turned into an ugly scowl when your roommate and the cause of all your nightmares –and wet dreams–, lee donghyuck, completely ignored your complaint, looking equally annoyed as you.

“shut up,” the boy sneered, “is that my fucking shirt you have on right now? i’ve been looking for it for the past three days!”

you let your eyes trail down your body, the graphic tee barely long enough to cover your ass as your fingers toyed with the hem of the garment.

“oh, yeah. i found it while doing laundry and thought it looked good on me so i decided to keep it,” you shrugged carelessly, “don’t you agree, hyuck?”

the piece of clothing that was oversized on him fitted even bigger on you, drowning your smaller frame. you looked so soft and warm in it, so incredibly comfy the tip of his fingers itched to touch you. to feel your perky breasts through the soft fabric of his shirt.

he couldn’t deny it, you did look awfully good in his clothes.

but he would rather shit in his hands and clap than admit it out loud. especially to your face.

“i mean yeah you look good,” donghyuck mumbled under his breath, shamelessly licking his chapped lips.

when he noticed the sly grin etched on your face he had to pinch himself to force his eyes away from your alluring figure, careful not to get distracted by your smooth legs gracefully spread across the bed.

shaking his head, he tried to remember why he had almost left a dent on your wall from the way he had slammed your bedroom door open in the first place.

“but that’s not the point here. you stole my clothes!”

his words made you scoff loudly, clearly pretending to be offended by his accusation. “i still don’t see the problem. didn’t your mom teach you to share?”

your blank expression and unbothered attitude was so incredibly infuriating donghyuck felt like plucking his eyelashes one by one. and he had no doubt in mind you were well aware of it.

although most of your conversations consisted of you both bickering back and forth like two middle school kids fighting for the same toy, donghyuck had learned how that evil little mind of yours worked throughout the time you lived together.

your roommate may have not been the brightest lightbulb of all, but anyone with two working brain cells could agree that there was no activity in this world, nothing, that gave you as much joy as annoying the living hell out of him.

truth is, nothing could have prepared you –or donghyuck– for the turn of events your life would take in the span of 24 hours. the moment you opened the front door to your dorm apartment –fully expecting to see a fellow uterus-bearer–, to him, luggage in hand and ready to move into the room next to yours, you made it your ultimate goal to terrorize the poor boy.

and how could you not? your roommate-from-hell made it so easy for you to read him like an open book. one look at his face, at those big, expressive eyes and you could almost hear his thoughts.

“that’s my lucky shirt, i need it back. right now.”

“don’t you see i need it too? what am i supposed to wear if you take it away from me?”

“i don’t really care, y/n, that’s not my problem.”

“then come here and take it off yourself.”

the small gasp that tumbled out of his plush lips made a warm feeling pool at the pit of your stomach. if it weren’t because you were trying to fuck donghyuck and not fuck with donghyuck, you would have giggled.

“w-what?”

“you heard me. if you want it back you’ll have to come take it off with your own hands.”

“you’re fucking crazy. i-i, what the fuck, y’know i can’t do that!” donghyuck cried out, his skin beginning to prickle with frustration, heart rate spiked up to reach dangerous speeds. “c’mon, y/n, just give it back already. the guys are waiting for me.”

“too bad.”

your pouty lips had him clenching his fists. not only to stop himself from choking you to death, but also to ground himself. he could feel a droplet of sweat drip down the back of his neck, body temperature rising concerningly fast at your very clear attempt at taunting him.

if only he could have them stretched around him, struggling to fit the thickness of his dick…

but that was not the matter at hand.

donghyuck was known for always being late to everything. and usually it was for a good reason. like forgetting about an important assignment until the very last minute and having to stay home to submit it on time. or getting stuck in traffic. or maybe even finding himself in trouble for running his mouth too much for his own good.

all of them were pretty believable. things no one would ever have an ounce of a doubt could potentially happen.

but this, this right here was something donghyuck could never explain to anybody without them immediately calling him out for trying to bullshit his way out of trouble. even if it was indeed real, no one would believe him. ever.

and to be fair, it did sound like the plot of a bad porn movie, one probably titled something along the lines of ‘lucky guy fucks hot roommate’.

considering how big of an attention whore you were, he wouldn’t be surprised if you had your own only fans account and were seeking a helping hand. his hand.

“don’t you wanna fuck me, hyuck?”

if donghyuck wasn’t taken aback by your attitude before, he had to physically take a step back this time, jaw almost hitting the floor.

“why are you so horny all of a sudden?”

“wouldn’t you also feel horny if you had to constantly sit through your roommate getting off in the other room?”

donghyuck felt like a bucket of cold water was tossed over his head, and he couldn’t help the way his heart dropped to his feet. you could see him scrambling to think of something to say.

poor boy looked like he was caught committing a crime.

how adorable.

“okay, well, i’m sorry. i have needs, y’know? unfortunately i can’t control when my dick decides to get hard-.”

“i know you jerk off to the thought of me,” you interrupted abruptly, staring at him with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “i’ve heard you before.”

the blood instantly drained from donghyuck’s face. he suddenly felt lightheaded, having to lean against your door in case he fainted.

how did you even find out?

sure, he knew the walls were thin and not exactly soundproof. and yeah, your rooms were right next to each other, separated only by one of those thin walls he often joked about being made out of cardboard. but he always waited until you were out of the apartment to enjoy his much needed self care time. and he swore he was always quiet. as quiet as one can be when beating your meat to the thought of your sexy roommate.

“what are you-.”

“why don’t you just come fuck me instead of using your own hand?” you sounded as if you were offering him to wash the dishes, way too casual for the situation at hand. “i bet it doesn’t feel the same.”

donghyuck didn’t know what was going on. everything was moving too fast for his poor brain –rotten due to all the hours he had spent masturbating to hentai porn– to keep up, visibly struggling to process the situation.

“fuck, you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to react.”

the thing is, that was exactly what you wanted. for him to lose his shit and fuck you into next week. shove his dick in your pussy without even bother to let you adjust to the stretch and take you to pound town for the next five hours.

“i’m not joking, hyuck. i meant what i said.”

someone pinch me, he thought.

was this a new way you discovered to toy with him? because if it was, then it was so fucked up.

“fine. i’ll call jeno over then,” you shrugged, reaching out for your phone at his lack of response. “i’m sure he wouldn’t mind sticking his big dick in my tight little pussy.”

your words hit donghyuck like a fucking truck. his jaw almost dislocated from how wide his mouth flew open, the tips of his ears turning a rosy color at the prospect of his friend. in bed. with you. fucking his huge dick –because everyone knew he was packing– into your needy hole. having you cream all over his cock, holding onto his strong arms as you cry out his name.

just the thought of your fucked out expression and loud whines had him salivating in his mouth.

donghyuck and jeno had been friends since forever, which meant he knew for a fact that his best friend would ditch him in a heartbeat if you did as much as look at him the way you were currently looking at your roommate.

“c’mon hyuck, i know you’re dying to touch me.”

the boy in front of you visibly struggled to keep himself together when one of your hands traveled down your body to rub yourself through the thin material of your pajama shorts. his knees felt weak, ears burning at the sound of your sweet moans.

“i need you.”

your words replayed in his head like a broken record. you said you needed him. not jeno. not anyone else. him. as in donghyuck. your roommate for the past year.

as much as he did want to touch you, feel every curve of your body, he was also scared you were just messing with him. he was scared that finally giving in to his desires would just embarrass him and ruin his almost nonexistent chance with you.

god, donghyuck liked you so much. his little crush on you had already become annoying the moment he realized it even existed.

you were the biggest tease he had ever met. and that says a lot coming from the lee donghyuck himself. you were always playfully flirting with him whenever you felt like it. or felt like giving him a hard time. and he could see it in your face you enjoyed every second of seeing him struggle to respond.

“i-i,” he gulped with difficulty, mouth dry as a desert. “i can’t.”

you watched the slim boy waddle his way out of your room. and you would’ve missed the tent growing in his shorts if he hadn’t almost tripped over his own feet and fallen next to you on your bed.

for around ten minutes, you remained frozen in place, figuring out how to get your roommate to break and give into his –and your– desires.

this was the closest you had gotten to crossing the line separating an innocent friendship –if you could call it that– between roommates from something more. something you both wanted but knew he was far too scared to try and make happen.

and how were you so sure about his feelings for you?

easy.

the boy wore his heart on his sleeve.

anyone could tell how enamored he was with you. how he visibly perked up whenever you were around. the way his cheeks would turn an adorable shade of red and his eyes alternate between staring at the floor, daydreaming about you, and sending heart eyes your way.

it had even become an ongoing joke within your own friend group. no one could –or wanted to– stop teasing you about his seemingly undying love for you.

“c’mon, just look at him,” chaewon once pointed out in the middle of the library, elbowing you while whisper-shouting, “he follows you around like a lovesick puppy. even to the library!”

as much as you wanted to shush her, she was right.

before he moved into your now shared apartment, he would remain at least a 100 miles radius from the library. it was as if he was allergic to knowledge, his handful of brain cells immediately going out of service at the smell of old books.

now, once you joined the picture, it was as if a switch was flicked. he became a regular at the campus library all of a sudden, so much so that even the old librarian tending the front desk knew him by name.

the end might be near, you thought when you first saw him sitting in a corner of the library, a variety of books sprawled across the table as he pretended to understand the book in his hands on quantum physics. you knew, of course, he didn’t. the boy was so busy looking around the building for something –or rather someone– to notice the book he was holding was upside down.

his blatant attempts at getting closer to you weren’t a complete fail though, as they had your heart skipping a beat every time you thought about the messy boy on the other side of your bedroom wall.

but before even thinking about how boyfriend material he was when he wasn’t trying to piss you off, you first wanted to test the waters. get a sneak peek at what dating donghyuck would look like without actually committing to it just yet.

and the only way you could think of to do so without forcing yourself into a vulnerable position and directly confessing was by fucking your roommate.

after taking a run for it out of your room, donghyuck decided he would have to do without his lucky shirt during this gaming session. hopefully only tonight. he knew the guys would not leave him alone if he was the reason for another loss, especially after boasting so much about his abilities the last time they played together.

sitting on his gamer chair, still shaken by the interaction, he ran his fingers through his hair to clear his reeling mind. he needed to forget about what had just happened in the other room and focus on the task at hand: winning rounds in pubg.

soon, donghyuck was able to immerse himself in the game, all thoughts about you drowning at the loud sound of firearms and the screams of his friends coming from his headset. so far he had been able to take down roughly a dozen other players, carrying the highest streak among his friends much to his delight.

however, the calm before the storm didn’t last long.

the boy tensed up, fingers stuttering over his gamer keyboard when you rested your warm cheek right next to the still noticeable bulge in his basketball shorts. instinctively, his legs parted to give you space to position yourself between them.

he hadn’t even noticed the moment when you had slipped into his room and quietly crawled under his desk, too deep into the game to sense the movement.

donghyuck would be lying if he said he had never thought about you on your knees for him before. so many, almost too many times. he wasn’t going to let this opportunity slide.

willing his heart to slow down a bit, he peered down at you. you looked so unbelievably beautiful with your long eyelashes fluttering delicately as you stared up at him, big eyes locked on his.

“keep playing,” your hot breath against his inner thigh had the hairs in his neck standing up.

he hadn’t even realized when exactly he had stopped playing, too busy engraving the visual in front of him in his head.

gulping with some difficulty, donghyuck did as he was told. usually it came easy for him to submerge himself in the game, tuning out everything but the loud voices of his friends.

“you’re so hard, hyuckie,” you snickered, licking your lips as your finger trailed the outline of his painfully hard cock with a feather-like touch that caused him to shiver. “is it all for me?”

he pursed his lips tightly and simply bobbed his head yes, afraid of his friends catching onto what was going on on his end of the call.

satisfied, you let yourself cop a feel of his length. your hand palmed him over his pants, squeezing around the sensitive head every so often. even through the material of his shorts you could feel the precum leaking out of his tip.

the view in front of you had you desperately rubbing your thighs together, thickened clit throbbing in excitement.

his silky hair, usually styled, was now messily framing his pretty face in the most beautiful way possible. his dark eyes were rolled back, slender fingers curling into fists as his hips raised from the chair, sloppily humping your hand. he looked fucked out already with sweat already dripping down his temple.

what a man.

“dude, what’s up with you? you sound like you just ran a marathon,” mark’s voice had donghyuck squirming in his seat, heart almost beating out of his chest. “are you alright?”

the boy’s head snapped to look at the screen in front of him, neck almost breaking from the aggressiveness of the movement.

“speak up,” you hissed through gritted teeth, tightening your fingers around the base of his cock.

his hips stuttered, hands holding on the edge of his desk as he swallowed the frustrated groan threatening to escape his lips. he heaved a shaky breath, summoning all his self control to not bust his load right then and there.

“i-i’m fine,” his voice sounded strained, as if he was struggling to make a sound. or more like to not make a sound. “shouldn’t have had taco bell for lunch.”

you could see the boy holding his breath, terrified his friends would see right through his weak excuse of a lie. and a sigh of relief almost slipped past his lips when they only hummed, quickly going back to their previous conversation, not very interested in digging into the cause of his unusual behaviour any deeper.

meanwhile, the pretty little devil between his legs got to work, releasing his dick by harshly pulling down his shorts. you blew air at the sensitive tip, making him shudder at the sensation. but it wasn’t until you placed a peck to his slit, fingers going to hold him at the base, pumping your fist up and down, when the boy gave into his primal desires.

“guys, gotta go,” donghyuck interrupted the conversation less than five minutes later, hurriedly clicking off the game and moving to end the call.

“what-,” renjun protested immediately, sounding nothing less than annoyed, and donghyuck was sure he would be getting nagged next time he saw his friend. “we’re in the middle of a round and getting our asses kicked because of you, you can’t just dip now!”

“i’m sorry,” was all he mumbled before turning off his computer.

donghyuck didn’t even bother taking off his headphones, opting for simply letting it hang around his neck. he was too close, too desperate for release to worry about getting sweat all over the –new and very expensive– device –that he had just acquired not even a week ago after months of hard work–.

he could feel how hot his face was, sticky skin burning under the intense heat of your gaze. the smug smirk that adorned your pretty face had his body on fire, a combination of embarrassment and need making his cock twitch uncontrollably.

being able to see the power you had over the lee donghyuck had you almost shaking with excitement, adrenaline pumping through your veins and leaving you out of breath. you would be lying if you said you had never thought about this, having him all to yourself, at your disposal, ready to take anything you gave him.

your hand never stopped moving up and down his length, giving kitten licks to the swollen tip of his cock.

he wanted to scream and smash his head against the desk, desperation clawing at his throat. he knew you were trying to break him, to make him beg for it, to fully give in to you.

the idea of pleading for your touch, for you to engulf his hard cock with that sweet little mouth of yours had his jaw clenching.

but fuck… he really wanted, no, needed more. to watch you gag as he fucked your throat, tears escaping the corner of your eyes at the discomfort. he wanted your soft hands gripping his strong thighs to hold yourself together, a mix of saliva and his precum making the lower half of your face glisten under the light of his screen.

“i,” he struggled to speak up, voice trembling from the intense pleasure. “i’m close.”

“i can see that,” you smirked, twirling your tongue around the head before gently poking his slit with the tip of your tongue.

“please, i need more.”

donghyuck finally broke, babbling incoherent words, urging you to fully take him in.

fortunately for him, you immediately obliged, pushing your head down until the tip of your nose hit his neatly trimmed pelvis. he really thought some more begging was going to be necessary for you to give him what he wanted.

“fuck, yeah. just like that,” the sigh of relief he let out quickly turned into a loud moan when you swallowed around him, nails digging into the skin of his thighs.

his orgasm hit him like a wrecking ball. his entire body began trembling, hands shooting to hold your head down –as if you were planning on pulling away–, fingers threading through your hair for a better grip. spurts of hot, salty cum painting the walls of your throat, and you eagerly swallowed everything he gave you.

the sound of his heavy breaths filled the dimly lit room, his body still trembling from the mind-blowing orgasm that had just rocked his world.

you pushed his gamer chair back by his thighs, climbing onto his lap with a satisfied hum. you allowed him some rest, aware of his shaky legs, and instead focused your attention on the tan skin of his neck. you placed a tentative lick right under his jaw, slowly moving down the expanse of his throat. the feeling had the boy’s adam’s apple bobbing aggressively, your fingers going to play with the hem of his shirt before pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it somewhere in the room.

once he stopped feeling like his legs were going to give up on him, donghyuck stood up from his place on the chair making you yelp in surprise, strong arms holding you against him. he then sat at the edge of his bed, head resting on your shoulder.

“i wanna taste you,” donghyuck pleaded, reaching for your waist to pull you closer. “please, sit on my face.”

you instantly nodded, quickly removing your pajama shorts, body tingling with anticipation as you pressed your palm flat on his chest to push him onto his back. he complied, not a single complaint coming out of his mouth at your display of dominance.

donghyuck swiped his tongue over his pretty lips, wetting them and leaving them glistening with spit as he patiently waited for your next move.

“so eager,” you teased, a smug grin on your face.

“stop playing and hurry up,” the boy whined, lifting himself from his place, holding himself up with the help of his forearms.

his eyes were barely open, pupils blown out. he looked so hot, laying shirtless on his messy bed. all hard and wet, ready for you to drop your panties and sit on his dick.

and oh how bad you wanted to sit on it.

swinging your leg over his body, you positioned yourself so your dripping pussy was hovering right over his mouth. you immediately felt his large hands grip at your ass, forcing you down to finally sit on his face.

“thank you,” you could clearly feel his lips moving against your panty-clad core, the breathy sound of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “god, thank you so much.”

you didn’t even get to laugh at him, or tease him about how desperate he looked sucking your juices off of your panties. all that died on your tongue when he used two fingers to push the crotch of your underwear out of the way and immediately latched his mouth to your pussy.

“look at you, what a messy munch, eating me out like your life depends on it,” you teased, biting your lip when you felt his tongue poke at your gaping hole, caressing your insides.

the dirty words coming out of your mouth had donghyuck physically shaking under your weight, urging him to keep going. he wanted nothing more than to see you cum, have your hips sloppily rocking into his pretty lips and leaving the evidence of your arousal all over his face.

“fuck, hyuck. just like that,” you sighed contently, harshly grinding against his mouth. “you’re such a good boy.”

donghyuck hummed appreciatively, relishing at the praise, eyes falling shut and hands reaching for your thighs, massaging the soft flesh.

he loved the attention you were giving him, and he let you know just how proud of himself he was when one of his palms slammed against your ass cheek before nipping at your clit, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

it all happened so fast that your orgasm caught you completely off guard. you didn’t even have time to flinch at the stinging on your backside, the knot in your stomach suddenly snapping, and you melted into a puddle. your trembling thighs clamped around donghyuck’s head, your entire upper body folding forward, struggling not to collapse on top of the boy under you.

you must have blacked out for a second there, and once you regained consciousness you were left in a breathless, sweaty mess.

“shit, that was so fucking hot,” donghyuck mumbled, sounding breathless as he stared down at his body with hooded eyes, snapping you out of your daze. “when were you going to tell me you could squirt?”

“i can’t-,” you choked on a loud gasp when you saw his now glistening chest.

your cum had sprinkled all over the place, some of it even reaching his naked thighs. embarrassment washed over your face, making your cheeks heat up.

“this is so much better than what i had hoped for, fuck.”

his pretty cock stood tall, in all its glory once again, hard and leaking, twitching every time his eyes travelled back to the mess you made.

swallowing your embarrassment, you moved to straddle your roommate’s hips, teasing your wet pussy over his hard cock. but before you could fuck yourself with it, donghyuck’s arms wrapped around you before flipping you both on your side.

“what are you doing,” you scowled, a pout on your swollen lips. “i was about to ride you!”

“as sexy as that sounds, we can do that later.”

“but-.”

“just, let me, okay?” his voice sounded so soft, so soothing you couldn't find it in you to fight with him as you usually would. “do you trust me?”

“what? what are you gonna do?”

“answer me, please.”

donghyuck’s soft voice and tender gaze made a wave of warmth spread throughout your body, a fuzzy feeling settling into your chest.

“i do.”

one of his hands grabbed your leg, bringing it to rest over his hip before positioning the head of his cock at your entrance. donghyuck smashed his mouth against yours, swallowing the small whimper that fell from your lips when he teased your clit.

“hyuck, put it in already,” you whined, clenching around nothing at the friction.

and how could he say no when you sounded so desperate to feel him? when he had been waiting for this moment for so long?

nodding, he did as you wished, pushing his hips into yours. his thick cock stretched your pussy wide open with each delicious inch, filling you up in a way you didn’t know you needed. his mouth fell open as your velvety walls enveloped him. your head rolled back, holding onto his arms for support, letting him push himself in further, deeper.

it felt like heaven. your bodies fitting perfectly against each other, as if you were both made for the other; just like puzzle pieces.

low groans left his chest at the sound of your tiny mewls, enjoying the burning sensation of your nails digging into the flesh of his arms.

donghyuck liked the way you said his name, how you called out to him with pretty eyelashes decorating those big eyes of yours as you looked at him. he liked the frustration and raw desire swimming in your eyes, and the way it made your lips form into a pout and your eyebrows scrunch together.

“move, hyuck,” you pleaded, attempting to grind your hips into his. “please.”

a scream was forced out of your throat as donghyuck immediately began slamming his throbbing cock inside of you. your whole body trembled in his arms as the bulbous head hit your g-spot, and almost as if he had just pressed a button, your mind went blank.

“t-there, fuck, oh my g-god.”

the distant look in your eyes, lips parted into a silent moan, drool threatening to drip down the corner of your mouth, let him know just how good he was making you feel. his chest swelled with pride, a newfound passion taking over him and turning his thrusts into deep, precise strokes that had you reaching heaven.

“feels good? this is what you wanted, right? to have my dick fucking you full?” donhyuck grunted, repositioning you on your back and hiding his face in the crook of your neck. he could feel himself throbbing wildly inside of you, warning him about his up and coming high.

“yes,” you gasped, legs tightening around his waist in an effort to bring him closer.

you would be telling the truth if you said you had never gotten railed like this before. who would’ve guessed the hentai-crazed dork next door would be so good at fucking you dumb? if it weren’t for his now obvious experience in the matter at hand you would’ve confidently assumed he had never been touched by a woman.

oh how wrong you were.

“i’ve dreamed about this for the longest time,” the boy confessed, “every time you walked around the place, wearing only a large shirt and panties, ass in full display, i had to lock myself in this room to fuck my first, wishing it was you instead.”

donghyuck could feel your walls clamping down on his cock like a vice at the weight of his confession. with your orgasms quickly approaching, he propped your calves on his strong shoulders to reach even deeper, lips going to kiss your breasts and nibble on your nipples.

“i can tell how much you like to be treated like the dirty slut you are,” he groaned against your chest, feeling his vision blur. “you’re fucking dripping all over me, creaming my cock.”

“h-hyuck,” your body began convulsing under him, about to tip over the edge.

“cum for me, y/n, let me see how pretty you look falling apart on my dick.”

and that was all you needed to hear before a wave of overwhelming pleasure washed over your entire body, calves squeezing donghyuck’s head from the intensity of your orgasm.

before you were able to fully ride your high, donghyuck pulled out, drawing whines out of you at the emptiness he left behind. ignoring your complaints, he shoved your legs together, shoving his cock between your plush thighs as he picked up his pace once again.

“fuck, i’m almost there,” he moaned, breathless.

and you couldn’t help but do the same as you stared at his face, eyes struggling to stay open as he chased his high like a rabid dog, using your body for his pleasure.

it didn’t take more than three harsh thrusts before he was spilling his essence all over your lower stomach and thighs with a pornographic moan.

releasing his hold on your legs to let them fall back in place, he collapsed on top of you, almost crushing you with his body, completely spent.

fortunately –or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it–, donghyuck was unable to successfully commit homicide. and after showering together and going for another round, each of you went back to your respective rooms, moving on like nothing happened.

just like that, your lives quickly fell back in place and normality took over once again.

or so you thought.

“hyuck, have you seen my pink panti-.”

you audibly gasped when you saw the pink lace panties you were searching for discarded on your roommate’s bed, a huge cum stain you were sure was not there the last time you saw them messily smeared on the crotch.

“what the fuck?”

“oh, yeah, i saw them in the dryer the other day and thought they looked too pretty not to jerk off to them,” the boy shrugged from his place in front of his large monitor, not even bothering to look at you. “honestly, you should invest in satin thongs, i think they’d look hot as fuck.”

“you little thief! i’ve been looking for them for days!”

“need i remind you that sharing is caring?” you huffed, a scowl on your face. “what do you need them for anyway?”

“to go out with chaewon, obviously?” you scoffed, annoyed.

he finally turned to look at you, eyebrows scrunched up and a dark look in his eyes. “so? were you planning on showing them to her or what?”

the growing annoyance in his tone left you scrambling for an answer, equally parts surprised and turned on by the hint of possessiveness in his voice.

“so what if i was?” you challenged, arms crossed in defiance.

you barely got time to react when his chair suddenly swirled around, donghyuck’s full attention now set on you.

“only i am allowed to see you in them, so you better behave.”

–lia:)

#nct smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #haechan smut #lee haechan smut #nct x reader smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct donghyuck smut #nct dream haechan smut #nct haechan smut #nct 127 haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct u smut

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fandomhopped · 4 months ago

Text

first love/late spring

pairing: fwb!logan howlett x fem!reader; 2nd person pov

summary: logan and reader have been sleeping together for a while with an unspoken rule to keep it casual, but that goes to hell when logan catches feelings. however, reader is an independent boss bitch and hates men<3

warnings: heavy swearing, hella mentions of sexual situations, substance abuse, brief sexual content(nothing serious fr), creepy guy in a bar, blood, bar fight, mentions of sex trafficking and resulting trauma, daddy issues, fluff, angst asf, lowkey scott slander (i dont mean it i love him)

word count: 9.1k

a/n: reader has light manipulation abilities but theyre not mentioned that often lol, also reader takes a lotta shots at jean just cuz she pisses me off. side note: idk the true meaning of the song i used as the title, there are many different interpretations. i found the song after i had alr written the story and the lyrics resonated pls don’t jump down my throat if it doesn’t align <3

there’s not a millimeter of space between you and logan as he holds you against his body. you’re sleeping soundly, and he watches you breathe all night, not bothering to even think about sleep for himself. the sun came up three hours ago, he felt it on his back.

when you drink, you always wake up early the next morning. you two drank a lot together last night. and like every time you drink with logan, you ended up in his bed.

he tries to block the sun from your face with his body so it won’t wake you up. he knows when you finally do, this little illusion that you're his will all be over. everything you said last night won’t matter. you’ll go back to your room. he’ll stay in bed. you’ll both go back to acting like it never happened.

you always leave him swiftly. you always go downstairs and drink coffee from the same mug and act like nothing happened. without a stutter, it’s a routine.

since he moved into the mansion, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the female teachers were attractive. and, of course, he was first drawn to jean. he won’t deny that he still harbored some feelings for her when you came to his room all those months ago, but she made it abundantly clear that she loves scott.

then one night, you slipped a bottle of whiskey into the mansion and invited him to join you in drinking it. you said some things that made him sit closer to you. that was just the beginning. he woke up the next morning to an empty bed but distinctly remembers you falling asleep next to him, so he assumed you woke up and left.

logan is a pro at acting like some things never happen, but he wasn’t expecting you to act the same. he dismissed it as a one-off, drunken night.

then it happened again… and again and again, and you continued to act like it never happened.

which, he was fine with. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a with-benefits situation, but there’s something different about you. you’re badass. you’re beautiful. he really respects you. you fit him perfectly.

and you’re mean. you don’t smile all that much, really only when you’re drinking is what logan soon found out. you’re not always outright mean to people, it’s usually deserved. you don’t take anybody’s shit. you’ll let people know when they’re in the wrong or they’re pissing you off. you’re sarcastic and rudely witty.

that was just another thing that attracted him to you. but, God, were you the meanest in the mornings, especially when you’re hungover.

unfortunately for logan, he has developed a small, tiny, itty bitty, barely-there crush on you. just catching a scent of your perfume has him rolling his eyes in the back of his head and white-knuckling whatever is directly in front of him.

the thoughts of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, on your knees for him plague his mind all. day. long. then last night, you had him rock solid from just a few drunken words.

“you’ve ruined all men for me,” you said as he kissed down your neck.

“hmm?” he hummed as his hands roamed your body under your shirt.

“nobody could ever fuck me like you do,” you told him, pulling at his hair roughly. he lets out a deep groan at the feeling.

he’s never picked up his pace of getting someone’s clothes off so quickly. he ripped your favorite pair of pj shorts in the process, mumbling that he’ll buy you a new pair.

with him deeply inside you, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other sending you over the edge with his mouth leaving marks all over your chest, you say breathily, “fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

the moment hasn’t left his mind since.

“i’m hot,” you mutter, pushing the sheets from your legs. “you’re hot.”

“oh, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his lips turned up.

“i’m about to have a heat stroke,” you return, squirming around and shoving his arms from around you.

he lets go of you and gives you some space, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. a deep sigh leaves him.

“i’m gonna throw up,” you tell him, groaning and curling up into the fetal position.

“are you serious? don’t puke in my bed,” he says, leaning up to look at you.

you roll your eyes. “no, i’m not serious,” you snap at him.

“‘you wanna take a shower?” he asks, his lip curling up at the thought of you ruining his sheets (and not in the way he usually prefers).

“i feel like shit right now, logan. i don’t want to fuck you in the shower,” you tell him roughly, sitting up and glaring over at him.

he watches you stand up out of his bed and put yout shirt on. “‘s not what i meant,” he grumbles, looking away from her. he throws the sheets off his body and grabs his jeans from the night before.

he runs his hands down his face and then looks up only to see the door closing behind you as you leave him. again.

“whew, late night?” ororo asks you as soon as you walk into the kitchen, changed into some presentable clothes rather than the ripped shorts and oversized tshirt you walked back to your room in.

you ignore the woman as you open the cabinet to grab your mug. the same one you use every morning.

but it’s not there.

“where’s my mug?” you ask, glancing around the kitchen to see it’s not just ororo but also jean and scott there.

“is this yours?” scott asks, holding up the mug in his hand.

your gaze darkens. “yes,” she grits out, tightening her jaw.

“that’s my bad. i didn’t know this was yours,” he says, standing up and walking over to the sink. “i’ll wash it and you can use it.”

you feel your skin crawl as he turns on the hot water. “stop,” you say lowly, walking to him and turning off the water. “you can’t—.” you stop yourself as you breathe heavily. you rip the cup from his hands.

“hey, it’s just a mug,” ororo says to you, “what’s up?”

“it’s not—,” you cut yourself off again and take a deep breath, shaking your head. you turn on the cold water from the sink and carefully wash the mug.

“seriously, what’s going on with you?” jean asks as scott rejoins her side.

you roll your neck. “i’ve been here for years, and you don’t know which one is my mug?” you ask scott, not looking anywhere but your mug until you’re sure it’s clean.

“i never noticed before, ‘sorry,” he says then turns to jean with a shrug.

the light beaming in through the window shines a little brighter as you continue to shake your head, muttering things under your breath that the others can’t make out.

“it really is just a mug,” ororo says carefully, looking over your figure in concern.

“except it’s not,” you retort, attentively drying off the ceramic with a towel. you then pour some coffee into the mug and hold it close to your chest, turning back to the other mutants.

“what—,” jean begins but logan walks into the kitchen just as she starts and she stops herself.

her surveys everyone’s demeanor then looks at you. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks, walking to the cabinet and grabbing whichever cup is closest to his hand when he reaches in. he pours himself some coffee and turns back to them expectantly.

“scott was using my mug,” you tell him, leaning against the counter.

“why?” he asks scott, eyeing the man.

“to drink coffee. why does it matter?” he asks in return, scoffing.

“it’s hers,” logan returns, his stare hardens and he looks at scott like he’s an idiot.

ororo laughs humorlessly. “what does that mean? it’s just a mug,” she asks, looking between you.

you glare at her. “it was my father’s and now it’s mine.”

“the same father that sold you?” jean asks, her face contorting. you shift your weight uncomfortably. “why would you want that?”

“why don’t you just back the fuck off, bitch?” you snap at her, stepping toward her.

“woah, girl, calm down,” ororo intervenes, holding her hand toward you like you’re a wild animal. you scoff. “we get it. it’s special to you. that’s all you had to say.”

you roll your eyes at them. you leave the group and return to your room. logan watches you go then turns back to the others with his eyebrows raised. “did you say sold her?” he asks jean.

“when he found out she was a mutant—,” she begins.

“jean,” ororo interrupts her, shaking her head at the girl.

jean continues, “—her father sold her into a mutant sex trafficking ring,” she reveals, looking only at logan, “that’s where we found her and then brought her here.”

his face contorts, and he looks down into his coffee. “shit,” he comments.

“she doesn’t talk about it to anybody, and, out of respect, we don’t talk about it either,” ororo says pointedly at the telepath.

logan is seething all day over the new information. he hates to think you went through that for God knows how long.

after the incident, logan doesn’t see you for a while. he doesn’t know how. you’re a teacher and you live down the hall from him, yet he still doesn’t even catch a whiff of your perfume.

“logan, meet me in my office,” he hears charles’ voice in his head. he obeys and within a minute, he’s standing before the professor. “you should leave her alone for a bit.”

her brow furrows. “come again?”

charles says your name and logan clenches his jaw. “she’s destructive right now. you should let her be.”

“is she okay?” the wolverine asks, concern growing in his stomach, and it makes him feel sick.

“she’ll be just fine. this happens from time to time,” he tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. “you know of her circumstances.”

“her circumstances?” logan growls, scowling down at the old man, “you knew what she went through and didn’t think to tell me? you know what’s going on between us and didn’t think maybe i needed to know that? what if she had a breakdown when we were together? i wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

charles’ lips turn down into a small frown. “that’s not my information to tell.”

logan storms off in a huff, muttering under his breath.

that friday, he’s smoking a cigar in his bed, looking out the window at the moon, which is shining rather bright tonight. he hears a few quiet knocks on his door. he opens the door, expecting it to be a student.

“hey,” you say, waving a bottle of jack in his face before pushing past him into the room. “'hope you don’t mind, i got started without you.”

“you always do,” he comments, closing the door, putting out the cigar, and following you to sit on his bed. “listen —.”

“i think i like that vodka more than this. this one makes my mouth taste weird,” you tell him, taking another sip out of the bottle before handing it to him.

he holds it and sighs. “look, we should—.”

“—take our clothes off?” you finish his sentence, smiling darkly at him. “i mean, it’s a little early, but i agree.”

“that’s not what i—.”

“—was going to say?” you guess his words, cutting him off again. “look at us finishing each other’s…” you trail off, looking at him expectantly. he sends you a deadpanned glance. “this is the part where you say ‘sentences.’ i think i’m better at this game than you are.”

he takes a long sip from the bottle before he looks at you. “can you be serious for a second?” he asks.

you scoff and take the bottle from his hands. “i don’t come to you like this to be serious, logan,” you say, putting the whiskey to your lips again.

“why do you come to me at all?” he asks quietly and gruffly.

you take another sip and place the bottle on the floor, scooting closer to him. “because you’re hot,” you say in a sultry voice, putting a hand on his thigh and slowly dragging it up, “and you call me ‘princess’ and ‘darling’,” you continue, reaching for his belt buckle. he doesn’t do anything to stop you, “and your hands.” you push the buckle out the way and unbutton his pants, dragging down the zipper slowly. “and your tongue.” you reach your hand into his pants. “and this.”

he breathes heavily, completely lost in the euphoria that is you.

he forces himself to snap out of him and shakes his head. he pushes your hand away and stands up, taking a few steps away.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him, grabbing the bottle and standing also. “do you need some more?” you ask, holding the drink out for him, confusion written all over your face.

he holds his hands out in front of him as if to deny the offer. “it’s…,” he trails off, pushing a deep breath through his nose.

your shoulders drop along your face. you tilt your head in disbelief. “oh, my fuck. they told you,” you conclude. you turn around and sit back down on the bed. he stays silent, just looking at you. “okay, so what now? you don’t want me anymore ‘cause i’m used up?” you ask, slurring your words a little.

“no,” he denies without hesitation.

your sober personality is back even though you’re still drinking the whiskey like you’ve been in the dry desert for weeks without water.

“then what is it, logan? you don’t wanna do this ‘cause my hair isn’t blood red?” you ask next, raising your brow and looking at him expectantly.

his face contorts. “what’re you talking about?” he asks gruffly.

you chuckle at him. “i’m not a fucking idiot, old man. i know you want jean so bad, but she doesn’t want you so i'm second choice” you say, then you shrug with one shoulder. “i’d’a gone with ororo, to be honest. have you seen her? i’d show her a good time,” you add.

“that’s not what this is,” he tells you, taking a step forward but not within arm's length of you.

“then what is it? just fucking tell me,” you say loudly, the room lights up as the moon shines brighter. “d’you want me to tell you ‘bout how i was a good, little daddy’s girl until i almost blinded my brother when i first got my powers? how about how my dad gave me away like he didn’t love me? d’you want me to cry in your arms about how i was passed around by mean men like a blunt when i was 14? why do you think i can only let you fuck me when i’m drunk?” you ask him sarcastically, but your voice breaks on your last words. you let out an unsteady breath. logan watches you cautiously, unsure of what to do. “is that what you want, logan?! you wanna be the big, strong man here?!” you ask him, crying now as you yell at the man in front of you.

your body slumps forward as you let the tears drop from your eyes, and you grip the bottle in your hands like a lifeline. you feel the bed dip beside you and the bottle pulled from your hands. you move your hands to your face, trying to pull yourself together.

you feel his big arms envelope you and pull you into his chest. that’s when the waterworks really break out.

logan’s never been to best with tears. he hasn’t had to deal with them too much, but his first instinct was to hold you as close as you would let him. he hates to see you like this. in all honesty, he wants to hunt down every man that ever put a finger on you and rip them to shreds. but, for now, he’ll hold you. as long as you would let him.

you wake up with araging headache. you’re hot, burning up, actually. you kick the blankets from your legs and turn over in the arms of the incredibly attractive man in bed next to you. you look at his sleeping face and sigh.

this is the part where you leave, but this time, you just snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep.

logan wakes up later than he usually does after nights like the last one. it’s normally the sound of the door closing wakes him up. but, this time, he sees your cute face smushed against his pec. he doesn’t fight the smile on his face.

you stir quickly after he wakes up. you rub your eyes and look around the room, then to logan. “i’m gonna puke,” you tell him, the remnants of the smile fall from his face. you pull away from him as your face blanches. “seriously,” you add and sit up quickly.

he reaches for the trash can beside his bed and holds it in front of you just in time. he holds your hair back with a look of absolute disgust while you clutch the bin close to your face and your body jerks with each gag.

once you're done, you wipe your mouth with the bottom of your shirt. you groan loudly and stand up from the bed. “i’m gonna take this with me,” you tell him, holding the can in your arms and moving toward the door.

“keep it,” he remarks, his lip curled up.

monday morning rolls around quicker than anybody wants. you walk into the kitchen and grab your mug, pouring coffee and looking around at others in the kitchen.

they’re talking amongst themselves, mentions of grading papers and some stupid answer a kid put as their answer on an assignment.

you just listen and sip your coffee peacefully. that is, until logan walks in. you move from in front of the coffee pot for him to get some. he nods in thanks as he joins your side.

“this coffee is awful,” you comment, pouring it out in the sink next to you. he chuckles at your comment but doesn’t say anything. “scott, did you make the coffee this morning?” you ask him. the three look over to you, almost as if they didn’t see you come in.

“yeah,” he answers.

“don’t do it again,” you tell him, filling the mug with water and leaving the kitchen.

as you watch a group of students take a test, you see logan walk back in his jacket he usually only wears when leaving campus.

“hey,” you call out. all the students look up at you. “keep taking your tests. i’m going to the hallway for a second,” you tell them and move into the hallway. “logan,” you call and he turns around, walking back toward you. “where are you going?”

“to pick up some more cigars,” he answers, gesturing over his shoulder.

“will you pick me up a pack of cigarettes?” you ask him, reaching into your pocket for some money.

his brow furrows. “you smoke?” he asks.

“sometimes, yeah,” you reply, handing him $20.

he shakes his head. “i’ll cover it,” he answers.

“thanks,” you reply, placing a hand on his forearm before returning to your classroom.

he looks down to his arm and blinks. that’s new.

“brad, i know you’re not talking during a test. are you begging for a failing grade?” he hears you say before he turns back toward the front door of the mansion.

logan returns a while later, after the school day is over and the students are training. he finds you in your classroom, grading papers.

“hey,” he greets. you look up at him.

“hey,” you return, eyes dancing all over his body.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the page of cigarettes.

“right, thanks,” you say and reach for them, your fingers brushing his as you grab them.

“‘you need any help?” he asks, looking at the papers before you.

“do you know anything about math?” you ask him, pursing your lips.

“uh, no,” he answers, shaking his head. “don’t you have an answer key or something?”

“i have to check their work to make sure they didn’t just get the answer from the person beside them,” you reply, looking back down to the papers. “some of these kids are dumbasses.”

he chuckles. “no kid wants to do math,” he comments.

“how would you know? weren’t you born before there were schools?” you ask him without looking up. there’s a beat of silence before you eventually glance up at him. “was that insensitive?” you ask instead.

he just shrugs. “i’m not that old,” he says, sitting in the desk in front of yours.

“sure,” you respond and go back to grading.

the two of you sit in without a word as you grade, and he watches you in complete admiration. after a while, he stands up and walks toward the door.

“you’re leaving?” you question.

“‘didn’t think you wanted your room smelling like cigars,” he replies.

“i’ll join you,” you say, grabbing the pack he bought you and putting the tests in a drawer. he doesn’t object and you two walk outside, to a bench in the gardens, away from the students.

the two of you sit in silence as you inhale smoke and slowly release it from your lungs.

“i’ve never seen you smoke before,” he comments after a while.

“i only smoke when i give up drinking, i only drink when i give up smoking,” you answer, tossing the burnt cigarette onto the ground and stepping on it, then picking another one from the pack.

you pick up your lighter and flick it a few times but it won’t light. you put your head and lighter inside your shirt to block the wind, trying again and failing again.

“motherfucker,” you mutter as you try to cover the lighter.

“here,” he offers his lighter with the fire shining brightly above it. with the cigarette between your lips, lean toward the lighter, looking up into his eyes as you do. he meets your eyes and clears his throat, closing the flame into the top of the lighter and shifting his eyes to the cigar between his fingers. you let a small smile rest on your face afterward.

“so you’re not drinking anymore?” he asks you.

“figured i should go on a sobriety cleanse for a bit,” you reply, “‘t’s probably for the best.”

“probably,” he adds and silence takes over again.

he glances over at her for a second and he sees you bite at the skin of your bottom lip the way you always do when you’re thinking, contemplating. he’s tempted to ask what’s on your mind but before he can break the silence, you let out a hard sigh.

“i don’t apologize for things,” you begin and pause, biting at your lip again.

“okay…?”

“i don’t apologize for my actions or words because i stand by every decision i make,” you continue and pause again. he’s looking at you and you’re looking directly ahead of you. “i’m not good at apologizing,” you sigh again, “but i’m…sorry for some of the things i said the other night. there’s no excuse. i apologize. take that how you will.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he replies.

you huff. “so i just said all that for nothing? you could at least accept the damn apology,” she snaps at him then rubs the crease between her eyebrows out.

“you called me an old man. i don’t know if i want to accept your apology,” he teases with a crooked smile. you send him a look that turns into a hint of a smile before turning your head away.

“i need to get back to grading those tests. i’ll see you later, logan.” you stomp out another cigarette and stand up from the bench.

“see ya, sweetheart,” he says lowly but you still hear it.

as you look over tests, ororo enters your classroom. “ooh, what’s got you all smiley?” she asks as she strolls in.

the previous smile you didn’t even realize you were wearing falls when you look up at the mutant. “huh?”

“don’t try to deny it. i saw that smile,” she says teasingly. you just roll your eyes lightheartedly. ororo’s brow furrows as she sniffs the air. “are you smoking again?”

“yeah, i quit drinking,” you answer, “what’s up?”

“i was coming in here to ask you if you wanted to go out with the rest of us friday night. we’re planning on going that bar we always go to,” she says, “but if you’re not drinking, i don’t wanna make you go.”

“yeah, no. that’s okay,” you decline the offer.

“alright, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us. sober or not,” she adds before leaving out.

the week drags on painfully slow. it’s a week of tests and starting new units in all your classes and you really just want to bang your head against a wall and tell the kids class is canceled.

by the end of it, you actually do want to join your colleagues in going out to that bar in town that they love so much. you offer to be the designated driver, not trusting anyone but yourself to drive you anywhere.

“are you going with us to the bar?” you ask logan as he rummages around the cabinets for something to eat.

“no,” he answers, opening the fridge, “are you?”

“yeah, i’m driving,” you tell him. there’s a beat of silence before you add, “you should come.”

he turns toward you at your words with a crooked smile. “oh yeah?” he questions, “why? ‘you want me there?”

you scoff with no heat behind it. “i was just trying to be nice,” you say.

“you? nice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“what? you don’t think i’m nice?” you ask him defensively, crossing your arms.

“no,” he replies, not skipping a beat.

“i’m very nice,” you counter.

“no, you’re not,” he denies again, also crossing his arms.

in his white beater, crossing his arms makes his arms flex and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the veins of his biceps.

“you have nice hair. there, nice,” you compliment, then add right after, “you’re not balding or anything, which is quite common for men your age.”

“you’re not good at this,” he tells you, looking at your plate to see what you're eating.

“do you want some?” you ask him. you hold your plate across the counter for him to pick off of. he grabs one of your chips and eats it.

“thanks,” he mutters.

“look at me being nice,” you comment and he chuckles deeply.

“shut up,” he returns playfully.

the five of you go to the bar that night, logan joining at your request. he sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink and scanning the bar every so often to make sure you’re alright.

you spend most of your time at ororo’s side. before long, you’re accompanied by a couple of men. you and ororo share side-eyes as they continue to tell stupid jokes. ororo excuses the both of you to go to the bathroom only to move next to logan at the bar.

“having fun?” he asks sarcastically, looking at you then glancing to ororo.

“they could’ve at least been funny, but they weren’t. there terribly unfunny,” you tell him, sitting next to him on a barstool and ororo laughs.

“yeah, that was awful,” she comments and sips her drink. “oh, i see jean and scott. i’ll be back later.” she leaves the two of you. you order a club soda and turn to logan, who is hunched over his drink.

“you have really bad posture,” you tell him as the bartender hands you your drink. he just shrugs and refills his glass with the bottle the bartender left in front of him. you dig your finger into his spine and he straightens up, looking at you wildly.

“why?” is all he asks.

“it’ll help you look more presentable. you’re not looking for anybody tonight?” you ask and glance around the bar for women.

“no, i’m not,” he answers and slumps back down. you dig your finger into his back again and he looks down at you. “stop,” he says seriously.

“oh, what’re you gonna do? stab me?” she asks him challengingly. he looks back down to his drink and shakes his head dismissively. “oh, come on. you’re good-looking, you’re good in bed, you’ve got this hot, animalistic thing going on. why not look for somebody?”

“‘cause i don’t want anybody,” he answers. “did you say i’m good in bed?”

“well, yeah,” you confirm with a one-shouldered shrug.

he stares at you for a beat. this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it before. you don’t talk about the things you two have done. ever.

“i would know,” you add after he stays quiet.

“you would know what?” ororo asks as she rejoins you, along with scott and jean. they all stand directly behind the man, looking at you expectantly. logan’s waiting for you to make up a lie.

“that logan’s good in bed,” you answer, gesturing to the man next to you. his eyebrows raise and he looks directly in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he drinks down all of what’s left in his glass and refills it again. you surprise him more and more every day.

“he’s what?” ororo questions, shock written all over her.

you roll your eyes. “you don’t have to do the clueless bit. jean reads minds and i know she’s told you two,” you state, pointing between ororo and scott.

“what? i haven’t—i didn’t—,” jean stutters over her words, laughing through them.

“liar,” you clock it in a high-pitched tone, sipping your drink. “i’ve heard you talk about it before. i’m just surprised you haven’t mentioned it yet.”

the three of them exchange glances. “okay, yeah, we knew. we thought you would deny it anyway so we didn’t bring it up,” ororo admits.

logan stays silent, drinking like he’s been thirsting for days. why are you doing this? “so…you two are…,” scott trails off. you shrug as your answer. “hmm.”

“hey, sweetheart, you never came back,” the guy from early comes up behind you and wraps an around your shoulders. you tense up at the feeling.

you remove his hand from you. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me sweetheart,” you tell him. he laughs and looks at your colleagues.

“why not? looks like everybody’s got a matchup here but you. let me help you fix that,” he says and runs the knuckles of his finger across your collarbone. he points at scott and jean, then logan and ororo. “i can make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“seriously, don’t touch me,” you tell him firmly, pushing his hand off your shoulder and shifting your seat away from him.

logan doesn’t watch the encounter but he’s squeezing the glass in his hand so hard it’s about to shatter. he feels the red-hot rage crawl up his neck as he does every time he encounters some asshole in a bar.

“don’t be like that, sweetheart,” the man continues and reaches for the strap over your shoulder. chills cover your arms and legs and a shiver runs down your spine. you grab his hand roughly and shove it away from you.

“touch me again and i’m gonna break your fucking nose,” you tell him.

“ooh, i got a feisty one,” he comments to the rest of your group, laughing. “i like that.”

scott takes a step forward. “you need to lay off, man,” he tells him, trying to keep this civil and contained.

the man only laughs harder. “what are you gonna do, glasses?” he asks him and slings his arm over your shoulders. “come on, baby, let’s get out of here. i got a real nice spot for you in my bed.”

“she already told you not to touch her, bub,” logan chimes in, still looking straight ahead and not sparing the boy a glance. there’s a tightness in his shoulders as he uses all his self control to stay in his seat.

“woah, tell your bodyguards to stand down,” he says to you but your only response is to rear back and deck him directly in the nose.

he stumbles back, holding his nose as blood drips into his hand. “you dumb bitch—,” he lunges toward you but logan whips around and grabs him by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against a wall.

“what’d you say?” the mutant asks him lowly, a growl deep in his throat.

“hey, take it outside!” the bartender yells at the man.

“why don’t we do that? you wanna take it outside?” logan asks the scared man in his grasp, shoving him harder into the wall.

“logan, let’s go,” ororo tells him as she walks with you toward the door. he doesn’t move. “logan!”

he drops his hold on the man and turns his back to him. he doesn’t even take a step before the dumbass says, “yeah, listen to your bitch.”

logan turns back around and absolutely socks him in the jaw. the man falls to the ground. logan walks after his friends, rolling his shoulders.

when logan gets out to the car, he sees you in the driver's seat, holding your hand closely to his body. he sits in the passenger seat and looks at you.

“are you okay?” he asks you carefully.

“did you kill him?” you ask him flatly without meeting his gaze, and he shakes his head. “you should’ve,” you say coldly and start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and back to the mansion as quickly as possible.

when you arrive, logan accompanies you to the lab for jean to look at your hand. he wasn’t going to say anything but watching you cradle your hand makes him change his mind. “are you alright?” he asks you.

“fine,” you reply sharply, clenching your jaw tightly. he watches you bite at your lip.

“speak your mind,” he tells you, just outside the hidden elevator. you just shake your head at him. “if you don’t, you’ll take it out on jean.”

“why can’t i just do that?” you ask lowly.

“‘cause she doesn’t deserve it,” he reasons.

you take a deep, frustrated breath. “what happened tonight was stupid,” you say, “dumb fucking men thinking they can get whatever they want whenever they want. now my hand might be broken because i couldn’t—,” you cut yourself off and take another deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m done talking about this,” you say and open the door to the hidden elevator.

he blocks your path. “no, you’re not,” he says and waits for you to continue. that’s when the dam really breaks and you last out at him.

“it’s stupid. all of this is fucking stupid. i could’ve handled myself back there. i didn’t need you to step up and be my big, strong savior,” you tell him angrily, voice rising.

“i know,” he returns.

you’re shouting now, “then why couldn’t you just let me do it? i could’ve stopped him. i’m stronger now. i know how to fight now. i don’t need anybody to save me. i can save myself. i don’t need you. i don’t need any of you.” your voice cracks as the anger starts to shift into the feelings you hate to feel. “i’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of me ever again. and i’ll break every bone in my body before i let some drunk narcissistic man ever put his hands on me again,” you say your peace and breathe heavily and unsteadily.

there’s a long pause, the weight of your words hanging between you. logan doesn’t interrupt, giving you the floor to get it all out.

“i know,” he repeats himself deeply, “but you shouldn't have to.”

you feel that familiar ache in the back of your throat as tears threaten to spill out. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, pushing all the emotions back down. “my hand really hurts,” you tell him quietly, not trusting your voice. he puts his hand gently on your back and leads you into the elevator then into the lab.

by the time you’re in front of jean, you’ve pulled yourself together and let her examine your hand. you did break your hand. she wraps it up for you and sends you to your room with some pain meds.

logan doesn’t leave your side until you’re at your bedroom door. “i don’t want you to come inside,” you tell him quietly. he stays silent. “it’s just that you’ve never seen my room before and this is mostly where i use my abilities and it’s messy right now and—.”

“‘t’s fine,” he interrupts your rambling. “i don’t have to come inside.”

“right,” you mumble, hand gripping the doorknob. “good night.”

“‘night.” he doesn’t make his way to his room until you slip into yours, locking the door behind you.

the next mid-morning, logan walks into the kitchen to see jean scolding you like a child. he’s surprised you’re just sitting there and taking it without a word.

“i’m serious,” jean says, finishing her tongue lashing.

“i know,” you mumble before jean offers logan a soft ‘good morning’ as she leaves.

“what was that about?” he asks you, moving over to the table where you sit with paper spread in front of you.

“i need to grade these papers but my hand is broken and dr grey told me it would only cause more damage,” you explain, sighing heavily and holding the pen in your healthy hand.

“let me help,” he says, snatching the pen from your fingers and the paper from in front of you. the numbers on the sheet are all greek to him. he doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at.

“you can’t,” you tell him, pulling the paper from his hands. “you don’t know how to do it.”

“then tell me,” he offers, moving his chair next to yours. “tell me what’s wrong and i’ll write it down.”

you shake your head a few times before giving in. “fine,” you cave and look over the student’s work. you place the page in front of the man and point a certain part of a problem. “okay, so he should’ve foil’d here but he didn’t so the rest of the work is wrong. put a line through it and write ‘foil’,” you instruct him and he follows your orders.

“like that?” he asks, showing you. you nod in approval.

“your handwriting actually isn’t that bad. i was expecting a lot worse,” you comment, leaning into him as you look over the next problem. “that one’s right, so put a check,” you tell him and he follows.

the process continues on. every time there’s a gap of silence as you examine the math that he would never even try to understand, he watches you in complete admiration. there are practically hearts in his eyes while the gears turn in your brain.

as the next few days progress, you and logan spend more time together than you ever have. whether he’s in your classroom during your free period or you watch whatever movie’s on tv together on the couch, if someone’s looking for logan, you’re right beside him and vice versa.

of course, the others have taken notice of it. it’s new and after you confirmed you had been sleeping together, they draw their own conclusions about the two of you.

“‘y’know what i would like to see?” you prompt logan as you watch a show with a lumberjack in it.

“what’s that, darlin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“you chop wood,” you tell him, looking up at him from your spot under his arm.

“chop wood?” he questions.

“yeah, like, axe, wood, outside, shirtless, sweaty, and muscly, chopping wood,” you tell him, “lumberjack style.”

“lumberj—.”

“with the cigar,” you add excitedly, cutting him off. “maybe add in a little dehydration too.”

“i think you’re drooling a little bit,” he tells you, pointing at your mouth as a lazy smile rests on his face.

“probably, that’s hot,” you tell him, looking back at the screen.

as the credits roll, logan looks down to see you sound asleep with your head resting on his chest. he carefully picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room.

he opens the door and pauses his movements, eyes dancing across your room. there are no personal touches on the walls or shelves. it looks exactly like his did when he first got to the mansion. well, except for one obvious difference.

your room looks completely dilapidated, like an abandoned home that the sun and time have destroyed. the dark color of the wooden floors and furniture has faded, every surface dry and brittle. in some parts, mostly near the window, the wood is completely bleached of its color.

he lays you in your bed and covers you up, taking in the room once more before he leaves.

“why don’t you have another name like everyone else?” he asks as you sit next to him on the bench where you now regularly take your smoke breaks on.

“like a last name? i do have one,” you answer, flicking the butt of your cigarette onto the pavement.

“scott has cyclops, marie’s got rogue,” he elaborates, glancing over at you. you’re sitting right beside him, his arm thrown over the back of the bench in a way that your head rests on it.

“i don’t know. i guess i never understood why i have to change my name just because i’m a mutant. i am who i am, human or mutant,” you answer, messing with a loose thread on your pants. “plus, seeing the way you made fun of the others when you first got here for their names—i’d never even try to think of one now,” you tell him, making him chuckle. you smile proudly at making him laugh. “you looked so cute when you first got here.”

“are you saying i’m not cute anymore?” he asks in mock offense, looking at you sideways.

“i mean, when i first saw you, you had that big jacket on and you were so clueless. a little less muscle too,” you recount, poking his toned stomach to which he curls to the side. your jaw drops. “are you ticklish?” you ask him, a smile growing on your face.

“no,” he replies sharply and gruffly, straightening his posture.

“oh, my fuck. you so are ticklish,” you accuse and dig your fingers into his ribs, attempting to tickle him.

a deep laugh leaves him, and he grabs your hand in his, his facial expression dropping quickly. “stop,” he tells you in warning. you just laugh in his face, reaching toward him with your other hand, cigarette still between your fingers. he grabs your other hand before you touch him, cigar between his fingers. “no,” he denies you.

you look toward the mansion and see the sun reflecting off a window. you bend the light so it’s shining directly in his eyes, almost burning them. he shuts his eyes tightly and brings one of his hands up to his face. as quickly as you can, you reach back into his side.

he quickly stands up and looks down at you. “enough,” he says and points a finger in your face.

you stand up also, but you’re shorter than him so he’s still looking down at you. you decide to stand on the bench, now a little taller than he is. you don’t say anything, just look down on him with a straight face.

logan can’t help the smile that breaks his scowl. “you’re an idiot,” he tells you, raising his eyebrows at you.

you mimic his gesture then flick the cigarette butt onto the ground. “you are cute, wolvie,” you say and ruffle his hair. “i get the whole towering over people know. this is a power trip for sure,” you comment.

“oh, really?” he questions and puts the cigar between his lips. he grabs you around your waist and throws you over his shoulder like you’re as light as a feather.

you let out a surprised squeal as he walks away from your bench with you in his hold. “put me down. bad boy, bad dog,” you chastise him hitting his lower back. he doesn’t listen so you just hang over his shoulder as he drags you into the mansion.

you grab his ass abruptly and he stops in his tracks. he places you on the floor and tilts his head as he looks into your eyes, taking the cigar from his mouth. “‘bad dog’?”

“yeah, wolverine,” you say, gesturing to him.

“a wolverine’s not a dog,” he tells you, smiling down at you.

your brow furrows. “yeah, it’s like a small wolf, right?” you wonder and feel like an idiot when he laughs at you.

“no,” he answers, shaking his head.

“liar,” you accuse.

he tells you, “go to the zoo. there’s some there.”

you look up at him in disbelief. “you’re fucking with me,” she states and he shakes his head in complete amusement. “if you’re lying to me, i’ll—.”

“what? try to blind me again?” he asks, cutting you off.

“maybe i will,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

he pauses for a moment, considering. “maybe i want you to,” he says and his tone drops, like, two octaves when he says it.

you’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, how his hands gripped your waist just a moment before, how effortlessly he carried you. the playful atmosphere shifts and you feel heat creep up your neck and across your cheeks. you don’t blush, especially not around him.

“logan,” is all you say softly. he notices the change in tone. he notices everything about you, every detail, every flaw, every perfection.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the air between you is charged. your eyes travel all over his face. he really is such an attractive guy. and when you peel back the tough guy layer, he’s a sweetheart.

“thanks for the ride,” you say lightly, trying to break the tension.

he nods, gaze still locked on you. “anytime,” he remarks, his voice rougher than it was a moment before.

you both stand there for a few more seconds, not really sure where to go from here. his eyes shift from yours to your lip as you chew on it. his jaw tightens and he looks away from you, taking a step back to give you some space.

your heart pounds against your chest unfamiliarly. everything about this feels so new to you.

“see you around, pup,” you say, your voice back to its teasing tone.

“yeah,” he adds, watching as you turn away and walk back toward the mansion.

more days pass and you spend more time with logan. he notices that you make fun of him more, teasing him for small stuff.

it’s only when he’s in the laundry room that ororo catches him alone. “hey, logan,” she greets. he mumbles something of the same. “so…you look pretty cozy with a certain mutant.”

“huh?”

“you know what i’m talking about,” she says, leaning against a washing machine.

“it’s nothing,” he tells her, starting the machine he threw his clothes into haphazardly.

“‘doesn’t look like nothing,” she returns.

“leave it alone,” he grumbles, turning to leave the room.

ororo steps in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. “please, don’t hurt her, logan,” she requests.

“she doesn’t want me the way you think,” he tells her.

“you can’t seriously believe that,” she says, looking back and forth between his eyes.

at that very moment, you turn the corner and your eyes widen. you ignore the sting in your chest as you let out a loud “woah.” ororo quickly turns around and takes a step away from logan. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you tell them with your hands up in surrender, but that was exactly your intention when you spoke up.

“you weren’t interrupting anything,” logan tells you, watching you move past him to grab a laundry basket.

“i’m not judging,” you reply, walking back to the door. you turn back last second and look at ororo. “hey, if he asks you to wear a red wig, say no,” you tell her with a wink before leaving.

“i never—,” logan cuts himself off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “i never did that,” he says to her.

“God, i hope not. what the hell,” she remarks, shoving his arm. “she was jealous. you need to go tell her nothing happened.” he sighs deeply and takes a step forward. “‘you really still think she doesn’t want you?”

he doesn’t reply and follows after you. you’re walking as quickly as you can up the stairs when he catches up to you. “hey,” he calls after you.

“don’t worry, buddy. secret’s safe with me,” you tell him, picking up your pace as you reach the top of the stairs but he keeps in step with you.

“there’s not a secret. we were just talking,” he says.

you place a hand on your bedroom doorknob. “really, you don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you say and open your door, slipping inside. before you can shut it, logan stops the door with his hand. you look at him through the crack in the door, pushing your lips into a thin line. “uhm…”

“there’s nothing going on between me and storm,” he tells you.

“i’m not gonna tell anybody,” you return, frustration rising in your tone. you push against the door but your strength is in no way comparable to his.

“i’m serious,” he tries again, almost pleading. “i don’t want her, i want—.”

“jean? look at that, finishing each other’s sentences again,” you cut him off with a false laugh.

“come on, darlin‘,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

you groan. “i just thought—,” you stop yourself, sighing. “it doesn’t matter what i thought.”

“it does matter,” he tells you, pushing the door a little wider. you move into the space between the doorway and the door, trying to block his view into the room. “tell me,” he encourages, getting closer to you.

“i thought you weren’t a whore,” you retort, giving him a hardened look.

“that’s not what you were gonna say,” he states lowly, looking deeply into your eyes. “what was it?” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the skin. he reaches his hand to your jaw, his thumb pulling the lip from between your teeth. “don’t do that. you know it drives me crazy.”

“i thought maybe you wanted me for more than sex,” you admit, feeling embarrassed as the words slip out. you clench your jaw, preparing for the rejection. a smirk slide onto his face and you drop your head. “okay, bye.”

you move back and push against the door again, but this time he pushes the door all the way open. your eyes widen as he takes a long stride toward you and pulls you back to him by the back of your neck. he presses his lips against yours feverishly to which you obviously reciprocate.

he pulls away and rests his forehead against yourself, breathing heavily. “i want you in every way possible, sweetheart,” he says.

you swallow thickly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “you don’t want me,” you tell him. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him, your chest pushing against his.

“i do,” he counters.

“you don’t,” you respond.

there’s a beat of silence. “i do,” he says again. you just look up into his eyes. “i want you. i’m not the best person for you, i know that. i’m older and unhappy and i probably can’t be there for you emotionally,” he lists then shakes his head at you, looking at you like you make the world go round. “but i want you, i want every part of you—the good, the bad, the hot and sexy, and the rude and snappy. everything.”

you’re quiet. you don’t know what to say, what is there to even say? in your head, he’s always wanted jean and you were just a place filler. you’ve been under the impression that you caught feelings and he didn’t reciprocate them at all. maybe you’re wrong just this once.

“i want you too,” you tell him in a whisper. he watches your brow furrow as you look away from his eyes. his face falls. “but—.”

“no ‘but.’ don’t say ‘but’,” he begs, loosening his grip on your waist.

“logan, i can live with you not being there for me emotionally, but i don’t know if you can live with me not being for you sexually,” you tell him. dread takes over your body. this beautiful, morally grey, perfect-for-you man is in the palm of your hand and you’re letting him slip through your fingers.

her visible confusion deepens. “you’ve been perfect for the past few months,” he tells you, misinterpreting your words as insecurity.

you shake your head. “i meant it when i said i can’t fuck you sober,” you tell him slowly, avoiding his gaze completely. you feel his hands move from his loosened grip to a hover over your hips. you can’t read his mind like you usually can. logan wears his thoughts on his face, perfectly readable when he’s mad or happy or just his normal grumpy. but now, it’s like trying to read a book in a language you didn’t know existed. “i’m sorry,” you add when his silence becomes too much.

“i don’t care,” he tells you as soon as you finish the last syllable.

“you know i don’t apologize for shit and you don’t care that i’m sorry?” you ask him. you go to push him off again but he pulls you back in, this time wrapping his around your neck, smothering your face in his burly chest.

“i don’t care about sex,” he tells you as he rests his head atop yours. you return the embrace and hold him around his ribs. “i don’t care if you never touch me again. i love you.” your eyes widen and he feels your body tense up. he chuckles, pulling away and smiling at you. “too soon?”

“a little,” you tell him, nodding. you then smile back at him.

———

a/n: i haven’t written in a long time . pls don’t rip me up if u hate this🙏

482 notes · View notes

gasstationlady · 1 year ago

Text

GUTS | a lando norris social media au | pt. 2

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader, ex!drew starkey x reader

drew is still hung up on y/n, but the grid’s new it couple couldn’t care less.

notes: final part of guts!! thank you so much for all the love you guys showed the first part <3 and dw i have so many more smaus in the drafts! tried to write and add a bit more but i ran out of space :/ i hope the plot makes sense! i feel like bc i know how i wanted the story to go i can't rlly spot the plot holes as easily.

disclaimer: NOT PROOFREAD. let's pretend that jennifer lawrence "kym illman" picture is olivia lmfaooo. btw the events in “GUTS” sometimes does not line up with the schedule followed in real life. again, no hate to drew and, now also, to ppl on the today show aha. (CONGRATS LANDO FOR P2 AHHH)

masterlist ⋆ previously

yourusername

liked by landonorris, drewstarkey and 4,810,592 others

yourusername thanks for having me vmas!!!! <3

View all 22,504 comments

yourbestie STUNNING

user pls not drew liking her post when he doesn’t even follow her 😭😭😭

↳ user no he’s actually so painfully desperate lmaoo

↳ user i’m glad lando and y/n are just ignoring him

↳ user girl i’m not, i want the drama AHA

user love u more than anything

user lando liking and the two of them now following each other 🤔 yup him and y/n are forrr sure together

↳ user yea after the deuxmoi post and lando’s soft launch it’s basically confirmed at this point

↳ user i wonder if she’ll be attending the next gp bc i’d actually die and then come back to life if it happens

user you look BEYONDDDDD 😍😍

user are we fr just gonna ignore drew like..

thetodayshow

liked by landonorris and 67,298 others

thetodayshow It’s GUTS day! We loved having @/yourusername on the TODAY plaza. 🍒🎤🧡

We sat with Y/N to talk about her new album and recent scandals surrounding the topics of her work. “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.”

Tune in on our Youtube channel for extra clips of our interview with Y/N and her performances!

View all 342 comments

user SHE ATE THOSE PERFORMANCES. DEVOURED.

user some of those questions were a bit invasive

↳ user i was thinking the same thing, but y/n handled that rlly professionally

user omg how have her vocals gotten better 😭

user lmaoooooo i see you hiding in the likes lando

↳ user it’s so cute that he’s following her activities 🥹🥹

↳ user he’s probably here bc of what she said in the interview

↳ user wait i didn’t watch everything, what did she say??

↳ user so they asked how she felt about her exes being a popular topic on the internet, and so she said “I just write songs; it’s not my job to interpret them for people.” they also asked about drew and whether they’re going to get back together (which, may i add, felt a little rude to me) and y/n replied with “Those who I’m close with can reach me anytime. I tend to not focus on anyone else.”

↳ user thank you for summarizing!! doing god’s work fr 🫡

user y/n handled the situation perfectly

↳ user no bc the way she said not too much but enough to stand up for herself and her privacy

user AHAHAHAHA SHE RLLY SAID AINT NO WAY SHES GOING BACK TO DREW

ynupdates

41,086 likes

ynupdates Y/n seen arriving in Singapore!

View all 462 comments

user wait you’re lying??? actually? waaait 😭

user IS SHE GOING TO THE GP OMG PLS

user i mean i knew they were together but imagine a paddock appearance 😩😩 i don’t think we can handle it guys

user if she makes an appearance at the paddock with lando, i don’t understand why he didn’t just go as her date for the vmas too 😭😭

↳ user i doubt they wanted to hard launch at the vmas lol y/n was barely even in the audience, tbh i think she left early

↳ user y/n has said before that award shows make her rlly anxious, so yea she probably didn’t want too much attention on herself esp with all the drew drama

user did i miss something, i thought lando was still in ny? why didn’t they just travel together?

↳ user lando probs had to leave earlier bc practice started on friday, and y/n still had a few tv show performances which i’m assuming is why she arrived today instead

kymillman

51,159 likes

kymillman F1’S NEW FAVORITE COUPLE

The first driver to arrive this morning was Mclaren driver Lando Norris. For the first time he is joined with his new girlfriend, Y/N L/N, a famous Filipino-American pop singer.

For A3 prints, hand-signed & numbered by a range of drivers/team principals head to kymillman.com

View all 343 comments

user omg it’s happening it’s happening

user HEY SIRI PLAY THAT SHOULD BE ME BY JUSTIN BIEBER

user this pic should be put in the louvre that is how monumental it is

user THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT?? FROM KYM??😭😭

user first💔hard💔launch💔is💔a💔paddock💔appearance💔

user the hand holding 🥹🥹

user don’t know if i’m more jealous of lando or y/n

user damn god really out here choosing favorites

user they’re already becoming my comfort couple omg i can’t i love them so much

landonorris

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,135,226 others

landonorris Singapore 🥈

View all 3,229 comments

user so proud of you lando!!

user AHHHH y/n cameo

user god idk if i'm ever going to get used to seeing y/n with lando

user SHE LOOKS SO GOOD

user yay carlando podium !!! 🥹

— — —

8 months later

landonorris

liked by yourusername, yourbestie and 4,475,987 others

landonorris Happy one year, love ❤️

View all 24,395 comments

yourusername there's nothing i love more than those chips

↳ landonorris 😐

user they're the reason i believe in love

user damn i think this is about to be lando's most liked post lmaoo

user the fact that he calls her love 😭😭

user luckiest man alive i stg

user how does she always look so good

yourusername

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 6,788,335 others

yourusername cause i love to love, to love, to love you

View all 35,719 comments

landonorris that guy's pretty handsome

↳ yourusername very :)

yourbestie LOVE seeing you happy

user omggg i'm crying i can't believe its already been a year

user might sleep on the freeway today

user let the light in is such a cute song to dedicate to someone

user LOL not the third pic

user i love them so much 🥹

user if you ever break up, love isn't real

#f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 imagine #f1 social media au #lando norris au #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #singer!reader #lando norris instagram au

2K notes · View notes

lizzy019 · 3 months ago

Text

𝒲𝑒'𝓇𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒶𝓂𝑒 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈.

Sub!Johnny Cade x Soft Dom!Fem!Reader

cw -> best friends to lovers trope lol, masturbation, underweight mentioning (Johnny), panty smelling :((, voice kink?, dub-con, cunnilingus, THIS GIRL STROKES HIS COCK! (yes pls on my knees)

Word Count -> 3.9K

I LOVE THIS WHAT

Consider your friendship to be a little too closely knit together.

Johnny spent long, consecutive hours at your place, often being the reason why your food and snacks were gone. You couldn’t blame the poor teenager, his family wasn’t ideal, but at least yours could afford food.

By the time you two were done hanging out in your living room, watching some random show that you two eventually got bored of, you found yourself serving him whatever leftovers you had in the fridge. It wasn’t much, but you knew damn well that Johnny was the most un-picky dude ever to exist. He’d eat rat poisoning if he didn’t know it was rat poisoning.

But you couldn’t help but feed him whatever he wanted because you knew he’d like himself with more meat on his bones and less bruises on his back. You couldn’t control what his parents did, but you sure could offer him the pleasure of eating a proper, healthier meal than takeout.

So now it was just you and Johnny sitting at your dining room table under the dim but soft light from over your head with two ceramic dishes filled with warm food in front of your torsos. It had a slightly concerned but slightly adorning expression as you watched Johnny eat with such vigour. You were concerned because it seemed like he hadn't eaten since the dawn of time, but it warmed your heart knowing you were giving him something he couldn’t access often.

“Slow down, you’ll choke yourself and I don’t have room to finish your meal.” You chided softly, smiling when you saw the tiniest pink flush engender onto his cheeks.

Those shy brown eyes that could make anyone like him, he just seemed so sweet on the outside. “Hey, I’m hungry and I’m gonna eat! Plus, it’s not like I haven’t been to the hospital before, they’ll know me for sure.” Johnny muttered, slowing his eating pace to a reasonable speed.

Ah right, the church incident.

Johnny probably hated how his back and shoulders looked now too, and with all that physio? You felt a little sympathy for him.

Your plates were soon empty after a decent chunk of time, and you pushed him a napkin to clean the mess from around his mouth with a kind smile. It wasn’t to be rude, as you’ve learned that being rude towards Johnny chips away at your friendship.

He takes it graciously while you scoop the dirtied dishes into your hands for cleaning. But after a second or two, you left the dishes in the sink. They could be cleaned later, and it was already somewhat late. So the ceramic plates coated in a sheen of leftover food residue were left in the sink while you tidied up the kitchen to appease your parents’ expectations.

Johnny just watched you, eyes soft and the lovely brown irises being held by the sockets trailing your movements to exact perfection. Why did you have to be so elegant with how you moved, so effortless and perfectly postured? Poor boy was swooning.

“Alright, do you wanna go get ready for bed? We don’t really have a guest room or anywhere for you to rest, but you can take my bed while I take my parents’ bed?” You offered politely, that sweet benevolence lingering in your tone while you led him down the corridors of your home.

Pictures and paintings littering the walls of the hall, the occasional piece of work that caught Johnny’s attention until you opened a door leading to your bedroom. It reeked of your scent, something that had his insides tingling out of joy. He got to sleep in your room? Fuck yeah!

“Y-yeah, I can stay here for the night. Sorry for.. bargin’ into your home so quick, I just needed somewhere to stay and Dal was drunk outta his mind.” Johnny muttered softly, walking into your room with caution while he looked around.

Clothes scattered all over the floor, the countertops somewhat messy except for the desk you seem to barely use. Your bed, unkempt but oh so cozy looking, even the curtains which were halfway closed from rushing. Shoes just chucked about anywhere there was room, a bra littered near your hamper which he could only assume was you trying to take it off late at night before heading to bed.

But he could smell you everywhere in this room, and it sent his senses ablaze.

“That’s alright, Dally does tend to have some poor habits. Anyway, I’ll be in the shower tidying myself up, you holler if you need anythin’, y’hear?” You smiled wide, toothy grin making him smile too.

Johnny nodded, watching you leave and close the door behind you. Your soft pitter-pattering footsteps that trailed down the halls until you closed another door which he presumed was the bathroom door.

The hardening sensation being squeezed within the confines of his denim pants was getting hard to ignore, but he felt so wrong for it. But good lord, he could smell it. Smell you. The redolent, fragrant smell of you that seemed to linger no matter where he stuck his nose just drove him up the wall to pure heaven.

Meanwhile, you were just having yourself a warm shower, washing off the grime from today as well as the bit of grease you used to slick your hair out. That took the most time, you had to scrub with such authority that you were sure you had lost enough hair to re-fur a hairless cat.

The soft soap you used was being lathered onto your skin, cleansing it and replenishing what it had lost during the day. You couldn’t lie, night showers were some of the best showers after a long day.

It didn’t take long for you to finish washing your body before you hopped out of the shower to dry off. The towel now warm from the steamy, hot shower was practically a cherry on top when you patted yourself dry with it. All the little uneven droplets being soaked up by the towel’s fabric to leave you dry and soft afterward.

Johnny was hiding away in your room, stripped down only with his boxers while his hand greedily pumped at his cock, a hand grasping at the pair of panties he managed to snag from your room and stuffing them at his face to get a whiff of what your pretty cunny smelled like. He felt so wrong for doing this, he was your best friend!

Johnny instantly stopped when he heard the soft tip-taps of your feet trudging towards your room, and he used the blankets to half cover himself so his boner wouldn’t be too prominent or easy to see. He also stuffed the underwear beside his thigh away from view before muttering a medium decibel, “Come in.”

You did just that, scurrying yourself into your room you found Johnny relaxing in while you scavenged your closet for proper night clothes such as a pyjama or even an oversized shirt with some shorts. Poor Johnny was just about to go insane when he saw you bend over, the sweet sight of your ass peeking through to his line of sight.

You had to have been tempting him, right? Right?

Once you had selected what you planned on wearing for the night, you looked back over in his direction to properly wish him a good night and good dreams until you paused to look at him further.

His ribcage was in full view, the bones prominent but you couldn’t find it in you to be disgusted or revolted by the sight. The soft brown skin of his, perfect in its glory asides the bruising and scarring which you’d come to understand was his insecurity. But he seemed tense, almost fearful and you couldn’t quite pinpoint why.

“Johnnycakes? Are you okay? You look stiff, is something wrong?” You asked sweetly, innocently.

How was he not supposed to nut to just that benevolent tone you held?

Johnny gave a hesitant nod, shooting one of his sweet grins that displayed his teeth to you. You could only smile back, finding his little radiant expression to mirror onto yourself and make you do the same. But it was late, you shouldn’t stay up for chit-chatting.

“Alright, you know where I am if you need me, right? Down the hall, last room. Knock if something’s wrong.” You hummed, scampering off with your clothes in hand.

The soft click of the door when it closed rang through the silence, emitting a pitch that resonated and lingered far longer than it had to, followed by the tippy-taps of your feet against the floorboards as you rushed to your parents’ room.

Finally!

He dug his hand back under the blanket, finding his hardened cock growing a bit flaccid, and he frowned. Poor Johnny had a good rhythm going too! He fisted his cock once again, pumping mercilessly as the echoes of your voice from that simple moment when you waltzed your way in.

It wasn’t long until he was fighting himself to not make any sounds, but he began to lose his control as soon as he gained it when the muscles surrounding the base of his cock began to twitch and tighten to signal his release was upcoming.

The dim lights from the midnight blue sky shone through your half open bedroom curtains, pushing past the glass to shine into the room Johnny sat in. This was all the light he needed to see the pair of panties in his hand, and that dirty, filthy mind of his began to simply picture you in them and nothing more.

The lovely shape of your body, its colour and form, the little markings that made you so individual and unique. Perfect set of tits, nicest ass that looked just about sculpted by angels. You were just so perfect, how could he not want you? How could he not want to have you?

Meanwhile, you were sitting with a disgusted look on your face as you heard the soft but audible noises Johnny was making from down the hall, but once you heard your name tumble from his lips, everything seemed to fade into a realization which led to hope. Did he like you like that too?

Soon enough, your own hand drifted to the soft pair of lips being freed from the confines of your panties, rubbing your unhardened clit with vigour. The tingling sensation burned in between your thighs, and you too found it hard to remain silent, but you managed. Johnny’s sounds from your room simply added fire to the ever growing flame building within your lower stomach.

Poor Johnny was clawing at the fabrics of your bed’s sheets, gasping and heaving while soft whimpers and groans seemed to slip his closed, pursed lips. It aggravated him, but he still thought you were asleep and he didn’t wish to wake you.

Boy, was he wrong.

By the time Johnny had set off his load onto whatever fabric you had around —which you couldn’t bear to think was now stained by his cum—, you hobbled your uneasy legs out of bed and down the long corridors of your home. Your steps were as silent as you could make them, but the skin on the soles of your feet now warm from staying under the blanket made the softest sticky sound that alerted Johnny.

He sat upright in a flurry of panic, inevitably settling on stuffing himself under your blankets when he heard the door slowly creak open. Maybe you’d leave?

“Johnny?” Your whispery tone got his focus, even though he tried hard not to shuffle or move around to alert you. “Johnny, are you awake?” You tried again.

When you finally thought that he was asleep and wouldn’t be waking up any time soon, you hobbled yourself beside him under the blankets and tenderly rubbed at his back. Your nimble fingers grazed the skin of the burn scars and bruises oh so gently, his heart filling with warmth that made blood pump down in between his thighs.

You were oblivious to it, moving yourself to use his thigh as something to grind against for purchase and friction. It was selfish, it was improper, but you needed it. Lord, you could feel yourself soaking his boxers from some simple grinding against him.

Poor Johnny didn’t know how to tell you he was awake, and in all honesty, maybe he shouldn’t. If he told you, or moved even a bit, you’d become startled and embarrassed to the point where you couldn’t speak and you both knew of this well. You weren’t great at handling your embarrassment.

Those soft moans tumbling freely from your lips were like a tease, something to tempt him to see if he would break. His cock was chubbing up at your dulcet noises, and he didn’t know whether they were somewhat soothing or a bit too erotic for his liking. Regardless, he tried to subtly move his hand to that aching spot between his legs for release.

You assumed his movement was involuntary like any person would do in their sleep. Adjustments to get comfortable weren’t uncommon, so you paid no mind to it and just kept at it. Surely you had stained the hem of his boxers with your arousal juices. But you weren’t focused on that!

But it wasn’t until the movements became consistent and they weren’t your own that you began to grow nervous. Had you made him uncomfortable? Was something hurting him? Maybe he had woken up? Oh, that thought sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You were scared that he had woken up and had gotten all flustered, maybe even trying to move away with the inability to wriggle you off.

So tentatively, you moved your weight off of his body, using what little arm strength you had in you at the moment to see what was happening below you. Johnny stopped almost instantly, trying to play it off like he wasn’t just jacking off to the way you were using his body. Would this be considered non-consensual? No, he liked it very much, so why were you hesitating on continuing?

“Johnny, I know you’re awake. Did I bother you? ‘M sorry, Johnnycakes, jus’ needed you..” You hummed, nuzzling your cheek to his boney shoulder to feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of his tanned skin. “Oh, but what’ll the others think?”

When you jostled him to show you knew he wasn’t asleep, Johnny allowed himself to turn over to face you and sighed happily. There you were, all pretty with your embarrassed pink cheeks and your pouty expression. Did you even understand how gorgeous you were to him? Even when he first met you, he swore you were sent from the heavens.

“Sugar, don’t worry ‘bout the others. Dal’s secretly been tellin’ Two that we were a thing anyway. I don’t mind it, would your family be okay with it?” His serene voice that wafted tobacco to your nose had confirmed just about everything you were thinking. So he liked you back, and the glances at your breasts during visits wasn’t just because he couldn’t make eye contact with you.

“I don’t care what my parents say, but your parents.. what’ll they do to you if they find out? You know that keepin’ it a secret won’t do us any good.” You murmured, a hand of yours gently holding his hip and caressing the skin while tracing the outline of protruding bone.

That had Johnny’s eyes forming hearts. Did you really think ahead of everything just to make sure he was gonna be alright? Good lord, he knew he was making the right choice.

“Ah, what’s a couple more bruises? I’ll be able to ditch them eventually, maybe move somewhere with you. How ‘bout that? We’d move far away from Tulsa, maybe somewhere warmer. No more Socs, no more fights, hell, I’d love to get rid of my cigs. I hate my teeth all yellow.” Johnny hummed at the thought of doing everything he listed off before pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

It started intimately, just two idiots mindlessly kissing with smiles mashed together while fingers entangled into each other’s hair. Soft and meaningful, purposeful movements that were well thought out and calculated until Johnny moved his hips to show you what you had started. That hardening length slick with some pre-cum, and you moved your hand down to grip it and stroke it while adjusting.

Your body was now hovering over his, lips still intertwined while you wriggled off whatever clothes acted as a burden to what you were seeking. The hindrances you considered fabric to sheath your body were off of you in mere seconds, your body pulling away from his to throw your shirt off. Soon, your mouth found purchase against the soft muscle of his neck, desperately suckling some little hickeys into his flesh.

Painless bruises that expressed your affection. What was more beautiful than that?

The soft little squeaks of moans that tumbled freely from Johnny’s pretty mouth just egged you on. Your hand fisting his cock mercilessly, milking him for all he’s got while showering him in soft praises. He deserved this kind of love, soft and sweet with just enough roughness to have you craving more.

“Yeah, baby? Feels good? You can take it, you got it.” You lulled him, pressing innocent kisses to wherever you could reach your lips, listening to the sheets rustle beneath you as Johnny wiggled around.

Sprawled out while desperately grasping the blankets and sheets below him, he found himself teetering off of that perfect ledge of ecstasy that was exposed to him. He was so close to that pleasurable place of heaven on Earth, and he was worried you wouldn’t let him cum. He hated edging.

But you didn’t. Your expression seemed to anticipate his climax, and that further had the coil connecting his lower stomach and the base of his cock to tighten and tighten until he simply couldn’t take it.

A cry that was so obviously forced to be squeezed quiet had alerted you just a few seconds before his climax that he was cumming. Sure enough, his pretty, pearly cum trickled down from his urethra and onto your soft skin, the liquid creating a thin sheen over your flesh.

The aftershocks of his body instantly made you become more sweet, hands resting on either side of his waist while gently caressing the warmed brown skin of his. Poor Johnny was rattling more than a damn Mexican maraca. Shudders made him all electric, but he soon found your hands gently holding his hips, and that grounded him.

“W-wait, I don’t think I can go again, sugar. Maybe.. get on toppa me?” He asked so sweetly, so pleasantly as if you’d say no.

You were practically stunned speechless at his words, pondering for a moment before inevitably answering his plea. Johnny adjusted instantly when he saw the soft nod of your head, and you could only giggle at his ecstatic expression. Happy, just like how he deserved to feel.

Your legs were quickly situated over his head, and with nervous hands, you combed through the soft locks on his scalp. Ungreased and silky, it soothed you enough.

“What if I’m heavy? I don’t wanna crush you.” You smiled shyly, and Johnny simply shrugged while caressing your hamstrings with tender fingers. For a greaser, you still questioned how his fingers were delicate and smooth.

“Then I’d die happy. C’mon, it’ll be okay. How ‘bout this? If you hurt me at all, I’ll swat your legs lightly.” He offered, charming you with that devilishly sweet glint in his doe brown eyes.

You could only nod after he spoke, and you hesitantly lowered yourself onto his awaiting mouth. Nervousness caused your fingers to jitter sporadically, but you pushed through before sitting yourself onto his face. The warmth of his tongue caused a rattle to zoom up your spine like a racecar on a speedway, electrifying you.

The moans that were pulled from you just made Johnny all the more eager to please you, and he began to greedily feed off of your sweet nectar. The tangy taste of your juices were simply too addictive, could you even blame him? He didn’t know which he preferred, nicotine or your delicious wetness.

You were beginning to grind on his face, his nose nudging your clit every time you missed or got too careless. The mess of your arousal was smudging onto his chin and upper lip, but you were too dazed out to really notice anyway. Poor Johnny was about to bust again from your desperation to get a climax, but he knew cumming twice was enough for him.

His tongue slurped up any drops your cunny managed to spurt out for him, the overstimulation of your labia and clit being teased had your toes curling. You were becoming sheen with sweat, but you didn’t cease being quiet. Johnny was simply slurping you up like a snack, and you took it.

The coil within your lower abdomen threatened to snap, but you couldn’t sum up the strength to get off of his mouth to save him from mess. His hands groping your ass or caressing your hammies didn’t seem to let up either, in fact encouraging you to continue.

Johnny’s tongue kept hitting all the ooey gooey spots inside of you that set all the nerves in your body ablaze, and it wasn’t long until you were teetering over the thin line of release.

“Johnny! Johnny- I’m gonna cum..! Baby, I-” Your orgasm had cut you off, your legs seizing and stopping all their movements while you thrashed about from the sheer intensity of whatever pleasure Johnny gave you.

Poor boy’s face was squished to mush, but he was so happy.

Soon, you found yourself coming back to reality, your control over your legs and you used this newfound control to get off of his face. The last thing you wanted was to crush him or suffocate him!

When you got yourself seated beside him, legs still a bit shaky, Johnny licked off whatever fluid you managed to spunk onto his face with a gleeful smile. How gross! But.. somewhat hot too. Johnny grinned at you, his teeth all crooked but so sweet on his face.

“Feel good, sugar?” He asked you, smiling all happy and pridefully. Making you cum was a big deal for him!

You chuckled softly to yourself at his words, they were suave in how he spoke. You couldn’t admit to him that it was probably the best head you’ve ever received, his ego would get too overinflated and the gang already had an overconfident Dally.

“Yes, it felt good. Thank you.” You smiled, tucking yourself under the warm blankets of your own mattress. The duvet covers felt nice on your burning skin, even if it was a bit too hot for them.

Johnny beamed, getting under the blankets with you as well before throwing his lanky arms around you. It scared you for a second as it was unexpected, but you laughed and wholeheartedly accepted his hug. Warm arms encased you, and yours wrapped around him in return.

Giggles were shared and kisses were peppered all around, even some tickles to make everything seem more lively. Johnny also wanted you to feel like you weren’t just there for some sex and nothing more.

God, you were so fucking in love.

Shoutouts to:

@outsidersstuff16 @raycravens116 @johnnycadesslut @johnnycadesmuse @johnnycakesswitch

#the outsiders smut #x reader #smut #johnny cade smut #johnny cade #johnny cade x reader #johnny cake #johnny cade the outsiders #johnny cade x y/n

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